


Sorry

by chochowilliams



Category: Gravitation
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama, F/M, Het Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Infidelity, Language, M/M, Male Slash, Original Characters - Freeform, Romance, Sexual Situations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-03
Updated: 2012-11-13
Packaged: 2017-11-17 16:46:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 56,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/553726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chochowilliams/pseuds/chochowilliams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eiri ran from Shuichi once. Will he take this second chance or let his past keep him from true happiness?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Second Chance for Ryuichi

**Sorry**  
 **Written by:** chochowilliams  
 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Gravitation or the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.  
 **Summary:** Eiri ran from Shuichi once. Will he take this second chance or let his past keep him from true happiness?   
**Warning:** AU, Angst, Drama, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Infidelity, Language, M/M, Sexual Content, OCs   
**Pairings:** Ryuichi/Shuichi, Shuichi/Eiri, Ryuichi/Tatsuha, Tatsuha/OFC  
 **Inserts:** “Sorry” by Madonna, “The Call Ignore” by Nova Williams  
 **A/N:** There originally was 17 chapters including the prologue and epilogue and then a one-shot sequel, but have combined them into 6 longer chapters. The title and idea for this story came from the song, “Sorry” by Madonna

 

* * *

 

_You’re not half the man you think you are_   
_Save your words because you’ve gone too far_   
_I listened to your lies and all your stories [I listened to your stories]_   
_You’re not half the man you’d like to be_

_I don’t wanna hear_   
_I don’t wanna know_   
_Please don’t say you’re sorry_   
_I heard it all before_   
_And I can take care of myself_   
_I don’t wanna hear_   
_I don’t wanna know_   
_Please don’t say “forgive me”_   
_I’ve seen it all before_   
_And I can’t take it anymore_

_Don’t explain yourself ‘cause talk is cheap_   
_There’s more important things than hearing you speak_   
_You stayed because I made it so convenient [I made it so convenient]_   
_Don’t explain yourself, you’ll never see_

- **“Sorry” by Madonna**

 

* * *

 

**Chapter 1: A Second Chance for Ryuichi**

**Adoration -- Tokyo, Japan**

It was nearing midnight and the club was filled to capacity. A line that stretched down the street and around the block of men and women clad in what they felt were their best club outfits waited eagerly outside the black nondescript building that held the hottest and newest nightclub aptly named “Adoration”. All were hoping that just being seen trying to get into the club would raise them a notch or two above their present stations.

Inside, bodies gyrated together. It was impossible to distinguish who belonged to what body part. Their flesh pressed together in the only erotic dance one could get away with in public. There was a mixture of sex, sweat, cigarette smoke, alcohol and something else that could not be identified permeating the air. A deafening explosion of sound vibrated through the thick, almost nauseating staleness of the club. The floor continually vibrated under the patrons’ and employees’ feet. The strobe lights flashed blindingly. Beams of lights created different patterns in the air above their heads.

From his position at the bar, a mug filled with frothy amber liquid sitting before him long since forgotten, Eiri watched the stage as if hypnotized as a man singing into a microphone danced suggestively across the stage towards the guitarist, a tall man with reddish hair that swept just past his shoulders. The singer, with his shoulder length choppy jet-black hair that had chunks dyed neon pink and a flushed face glistening with sweat who came up to the guitarist’s nose, ground his body erotically against the guitarist, which made the girls, a few of the men and some people he found himself second and then third guessing squeal. Eiri squirmed as his already tight black leather pants became even more so.

“They’re pretty good, huh?” the bartender asked him. The man had to shout above the noise to be heard.

Eiri made an undistinguishable noise to the affirmative.

“Heard they’re being scouted by some record label!”

Eiri could believe that. If the crowd was any indication, these guys were going to be huge.

“He is sooo cute,” squealed a female besides him.

Eiri studied her out of the corner of his eye. She had mile long legs encased in black knee high vinyl boots with platform heels and huge breasts that either were a cruel joke by nature or a gift from some sugar daddy that were straining against a white silk top that had to be at least two sizes too small. Her platinum blond hair hung poker straight down to her waist where a black skirt, if you could call it that for it practically left her ass hanging out, hugged her hips. If she was not careful, Eiri feared she could be arrested either for indecent exposure or as a streetwalker.

“Yeah,” the woman’s female companion agreed. She was dressed similarly to her friend except she had shorter hair the same color as mud. “It’s too bad that Shuichi guy is gay, though!”

That got Eiri’s immediate attention.

“Wha-? Is that true?” pouted the first woman.

The second woman shrugged. “It’s what I heard.”

A smirk crossed Eiri’s face. Standing up, he pulled out his wallet and slapped down a sizeable tip for the bartender before cutting his way through the throng of sex starved twenty-something college students towards the stage.

 

* * *

 

Shuichi was pumped. Adrenaline was his mistress tonight. The energy from the sold out crowd fueled him and the other members of his band Bad Luck. The sound of his boots against the hardwood floor of the stage was lost amongst the continual swelling sounds of their audience. His loose pinstriped dress slacks were starting to stick to his legs from the buckets of sweat pouring off him. The half dozen single link chain belts cinched around his narrow hips flashed in the strobe-ing lights and clanged musically as he moved. The matching pinstriped vest showed off his toned dancer’s physique.

Their last song of the night, “The Call Ignored”, was co-written by Kevin Powers and Ethan Biesinger, the bassist and drummer respectively, of Bad Luck, who also happened to be second cousins, or was it, first cousins once removed? Whatever the proper term was, when Shuichi asked the cousins what the inspiration behind the song was, they‘d remained mute.

**Do you hear the buzzing of the silence--**   
**That brazen chatter; its rumbustiousness**   
**Is contagious as it eats its way through**   
**The stillness; the defecation of the**   
**Eternal soul--an infection spreading**   
**Its attacks upon the Enlightened path.**   
**Folly, all are false, these idols of man**   
**That are found along its way, ignore them**   
**For they are Temptation and will lead you**   
**Astray; penance will be paid true to form.**   
**Barriers will be raised, impurities**   
**Sealed with Aves and Alleluias sung**   
**Out loud; Their calls are beckoning man forth.**   
**Only the silence--still insistently**   
**Chattering away--answers the foray.**

Shuichi could feel the heavy mixture of hip-hop and club beats within his chest and he loved it. He strutted around the stage, feeding off the energy from the crowd.

Hiro stepped forward and made his sleek black electric guitar sing like no other could.

Eyes the color of rubies snapped open. It was as if time stood still. In the space of a heartbeat, Shuichi locked eyes with a man who was leaning against a pillar towards the center of the club. His face grew warm and it had nothing to do with the hot stage lights beating down on him.

The guy had blond hair that was styled to appear sleep tousled, as if he had just gotten up out of bed, but in actuality, he had most likely spent an arm and a leg at a professional salon in order to get that look. Despite the swarming mass giving off so much body heat it was beginning to feel like a sauna, this guy seemed comfortably cool in his black leather pants and white button up dress shirt that had been left half-unbuttoned in order to present a view of his smooth chest. It was obvious that this guy took good care of his body. Shuichi wondered if the guy was naturally hairless or if he waxed regularly like some other guys he knew. He also knew of a few that had undergone electrolysis to rid themselves of all that unwanted body hair. Shuichi wondered if the rest of the guy was just as smooth as what little he could see.

His mouth went suddenly dry. The lyrics he was singing flew out of his head. He forgot what it was he was supposed to be doing. Something fluttered in his stomach as those hazel eyes, as golden as the dawn, watched him. They were making him feel suddenly timid and slightly unnerved, even though if you asked anyone who knew him, that person would tell you he was anything but. His heart started pounding.

Wow, he thought in amazement as the music pulsed around him and the roar of the crowd swelled. That guy is gorgeous.

 

* * *

 

From the back of the club at the loading dock where Bad Luck was loading up their equipment after another successful show in Suguru’s old family van they usually borrowed when they had a gig, the sounds coming from the club, though muffled, could still be heard.

With his arms folded behind his head, Shuichi leaned against the side of the building and stared up unseeingly at the celestial bodies in the nighttime sky. His band mates arguing on how to load the van most effectively went unnoticed as the image of the man Shuichi saw towards the end of their last song of the night flashed through his head. After their performance ended to an euphoric ovation, Shuichi had sought out that man with those piercing eyes, but it was as if the man vanished. He was strangely disappointed.

“Hey,” breathed a voice in his ear unexpectedly.

Startled, Shuichi jumped away from the wall. He spun around and came face to face with the man that has been haunting his thoughts all night. “You,” he cried wide eyed.

Eiri merely smiled back at, looking almost smug.

At the sound of his friend’s shocked exclamation, Hiro halted the seemingly endless tirade he always had with Suguru every time they loaded the van and glanced over his shoulder. A concerned frown etched across his face. “Shu?” he called out to his friend.

The others followed his line of sight in open curiosity.

Shuichi glanced over his shoulder and saw the guys watching them closely. “Huh?”

“What’s going on?” Hiro asked suspiciously. He turned piercing blue-gray eyes towards the newcomer. “Who’re you?” he demanded.

“It’s okay, Hiro,” Shuichi assured his best friend with a smile as he tried to calm his racing heart.

Frowning, Hiro gave the newcomer one last none-too-polite glance over before being urged into the van by Kevin and Ethan. Suguru inclined his head at Eiri, who nodded in return, before he too vanished around the rusted hunk of metal that should have been put down for rabies a long time ago.

“He your boyfriend or something?”

Eiri’s voice drew Shuichi’s attention back around. “Who? Hiro? No,” he denied with a firm shake of his head. “He’s my best friend and tends to be a little…” He struggled for a word that would not be offensive to his best friend and fellow band mate.

“Overprotective?” Eiri suggestive.

Shuichi laughed. “Yeah.”

Eiri tilted his head and smiled gently. “…That’s nice.”

“Wha-?”

“Your laugh.”

Shuichi did not know what to say to that. He blushed hotly.

Chuckling softly, Eiri held out his hand. “I’m Eiri. Eiri Uesugi.”

“Shuichi. Shuichi Shindou.”

“Well, it is nice to meet you Shuichi.”

“You, too.”

Eiri’s hand engulfed Shuichi’s hand.

As they shook hands, Shuichi could not help but notice how warm this Eiri guy was to the touch. He wondered if he had some Latino or Hispanic blood in him. Shuichi knew from experience that their body temperature had a tendency to be a lot higher than everybody else as if they had their own internal heat source. He also found that he had to either take several steps back or tilt his head back and get a chink in his neck in order to have a proper conversation with this guy.

Much to his chagrin, Shuichi had always been a little on the short side. Hiro towered over him at five-ten, but this guy would tower even over him. Eiri had to be at least six feet. In the light beaming down from the sole lamp above the loading dock bay door, Shuichi noticed strands of platinum and ash blond within Eiri’s honey blond hair. And those eyes! Shuichi soon found himself lost amongst their unusual yellowish-brownish hue. Like indigo, it was neither one nor the other, but a perfect combination.

“You have beautiful eyes,” Shuichi blurted. His eyes went wide when he realized he said that aloud. He clamped his mouth shut as a hot blush crept up his neck.

“Thank you,” Eiri said with a light laugh. “You were amazing on that stage tonight.”

Once again, Shuichi was at a loss for words. By this time, he had a permanent blush coloring his face. “Thank you.”

Eiri cocked his head to the side as he studied his new young friend. Shuichi was more than half a foot shorter than he was. Up close, Eiri could now tell that those slightly pinched red eyes that almost seemed to glow against his dark olive complexion were thanks to colored contacts. He wondered if they were cosmetic or if Shuichi had bad eyesight. “You don’t have Western blood do you?” he asked. He hoped that question was not out of line.

Taken aback by the startling revelation, Shuichi blinked. “You can tell?”

Eiri shrugged. He was sort of bias. With his unusual coloring, there had always been rumors floating among the family. Rumors, which Eiri had ignored.

Shuichi was surprised. Eiri was the first person to notice without Shuichi having to say anything. “My grandfather grew up in New York,” he explained.

Shuichi had always taken his heritage for granted until his grandmother passed away a few years ago. They were going through her things, deciding who would get what and what was to be donated to charity when they came across a shoebox hidden in the back of her closet behind trash bags filled with clothing that his grandmother had always meant to give away but for one reason or another had not.

What they found within the worn, torn and faded rectangular box were black and white photographs from another era, letters yellowed with age and a birth certificate that belonged to Shuichi’s mother. That was when the secret that Shuichi’s grandmother tried to bury fifty years ago came screeching back to the surface.

The man that Shuichi’s mother always believed to be her father, the man her elder brother and sister called, “dad” was not the man who helped her mother to conceive her. No, the man’s blood that was flowing through her veins was some man from New York. To this day, his mother refused to discuss it. She refused to even acknowledge it. While she was embarrassed and ashamed of her recently discovered ancestry, Shuichi was damn proud to admit that he was a Mutt.

“Shuichi,” Hiro’s angry bark caused both men to jump. “You coming or what?”

Shuichi glanced over his shoulder as Eiri chuckled softly into his fist. “In a minute,” he called back. He turned back around. “Well, Eiri, it was a pleasure meeting you-.”

“Actually,” Eiri interrupted. “I was wondering if you would, uhm…”

Shuichi titled his head, his large ruby red eyes waiting in eager anticipation. He felt his heart thumping hard within his chest.

Eiri licked lips gone dry. He forced himself to swallow. Why was this so hard? His heart rate had sped up. He could taste his pulse beating on his tongue. He could not seem to catch his breath. Closing his eyes briefly, he took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down.

“Eiri?”

It was not working.

Shuichi took a step closer to the other man. “Are you all right?”

“Do you have plans?” he blurted out.

Shuichi was taken aback. His mind went blank. “Wha…?”

Eiri was beginning to become antsy. He had never been good with this kind of thing.

“He’s asking you out you freaking moron,” came the shouts from the van.

Shuichi’s eyes went wide. His glance went to the van behind him where laughter and mocking noises were coming from to the blond haired, golden-eyed man shuffling his feet before him.

Eiri shrugged nonchalant, though he avoided Shuichi’s searching gaze. “If you aren’t busy,” he mumbled.

A wide grin split Shuichi’s face. “All right.”

Eiri’s head snapped around. He gazed at the younger man in shock. “Really?”

Shuichi nodded.

 

* * *

 

**Shindou Residence -- The Next Morning**

Shuichi woke to the sun streaming in through the gold and black lace filigree blackout curtains he had forgotten to close last night--or had it been early this morning?--when he went to bed. With a groan, he turned on his side and flipped the covers over his head. He sighed contently when he was blessed with a pseudo-night.

That was when the events of last night replayed through his head. A slow grin spread across his face and a giggle tickled its way up his throat. Last night had been the best night of his entire life! Eiri had taken him to an all night café where they spent hours just talking. They talked about everything and anything.

Shuichi learned that Eiri’s family ran a brewery called “The Lion Brewery”, founded by his third great grandfather. Eiri himself was working on getting his Ph.D. in business management so that he could take over the company from his father. Eiri also had a dual B.A. degree in English and Creative Writing and was in the middle of writing a suspense thriller in those few minutes a day he had to spare and was going to try to get it published.

With an older sister and both a younger brother and sister, Eiri was the second of four children.

His parents divorced soon after his little sister was born. Eiri refused to say anything more about that subject except to say it was a bitter and ugly parting that had affected him greatly. Eiri started smoking soon after the divorce. Whether it was due to the stress of dealing with his parents’ divorce, he was not sure.

Eiri claimed his father was a Buddhist while his mother’s mother had been Roman Catholic. His mother’s father was also a Buddhist. Eiri’s mother was raised Roman Catholic until her mother passed away, and then she had been raised as a Buddhist by her father. Even though Eiri had been raised Buddhist, he considered himself nowadays to be Agnostic.

He was also left handed. Shuichi could not remember ever having met a left-handed person before.

Flinging the covers back, Shuichi pushed up onto his elbows and glanced down at the bed besides him. His grin faltered and fell. Shuichi bolted up. The bed besides him was empty. After spending hours at the café and racking up one of the largest bills he was sure anyone at the café had ever seen, Shuichi brought Eiri back to his small efficiency and one thing had inevitably led to another.

Even though he hadn’t known Eiri for more than a few hours, Shuichi, in all honesty, was falling in love.

“Eiri,” he called.

Tossing aside the covers, Shuichi swung his legs off the bed. He shivered as the cool air of his small studio hit his bare skin. Standing up, he grabbed his suit pants he had worn last night off the floor where they had been tossed in the lustful frenzy and slipped them on as he glanced around his two-hundred and fifty-eight square foot closet for his lover who seemed to have vanished. Yawning, Shuichi crossed towards the bathroom.

“Eiri?” he called softly as he rapt lightly on the closed bathroom door. He twisted the handle and pushed open the door. He stuck his head inside the bathroom. “Hey Eiri, do you…?” It was empty. He scratched the back of his head. Where did he go? Turning back around, Shuichi scanned the studio. There was so sign of any of the other man’s belongings anywhere. Eiri was gone.

Shuichi felt a sharp pain in his chest. His eyes filled with tears. An angry surge rolled through him. Balling his hand into a fist, Shuichi hit the wall with all the frustration he could muster. His hand prickling with pain, Shuichi slid down the doorjamb and collapsed onto the floor in a sobbing heap. He should have known. Things that seem too good to be true usually are.

 

* * *

 

**Zepp Tokyo -- Tokyo, Japan -- A Month Later**

Shuichi was exhausted.

Someone had given him a towel that he was using to mop the thick rivers of sweat dripping down his face, and someone else had given him a bottle of water that he finished in three large gulps; he could not remember whom nor could he remember if he thanked that person--people? He was so exhausted, both mentally and physically, that his mind and body were beginning to shut down. He could barely keep his eyes open; they felt so heavy and gritty. He yawned loudly and rubbed his eyes. Where was Hiro? It was getting somewhat late and he wanted to go home.

“That's a pretty big yawn. Are you tired?” came a sudden child-like voice.

Shuichi dropped his hand and blinked blurry eyes. He gasped and jumped to his feet, his eyes bugging out of his head. “R-Ryuichi S-Sakuma,” he exclaimed in astonishment. Shuichi thought the man had already left. “W-what're you…?”

“You were pretty good out there.”

Shuichi took a step forward, and then cried out in sudden surprise when he tripped and lost his balance.

As he tumbled forward, his descent was halted by something warm and both soft and a little firm at the same time. Looking up, Shuichi met and instantly lost himself in the deep, baby blue eyes of Ryuichi Sakuma, his idol and the lead singer for his favorite rock band Nittle Grasper. Ryuichi's eyes held such intensity that it sent Shuichi’s pulse racing. Running his tongue over dry, cracked lips, Shuichi gulped and dropped his gaze to those lush, full lips hovering mere inches above his. He wondered what they would felt like against his.

Then in a blink of an eye, the strong, hypnotic gaze was gone. “Are you okay?”

Blushing madly, Shuichi nodded, turning away from the older man, embarrassed and mortified at what he had been thinking. “Y-yes, th-thank you,” he mumbled as Ryuichi helped him to his feet.

“Why're you all red?” Ryuichi asked innocently, cocking his head to the side like a puppy.

Shuichi’s face grew warmer.

“Hey, Shu,” he heard Hiro call out. “We’re all set. The van’s packed and the guys are waiting.”

Shuichi sighed deeply while saying a brief prayer of thanks. He had never been more grateful than he was right now to be pulled away from the man he thought of as a god. The singer turned towards his friend and smiled at the other man as he strode towards him.

“Hey, where you going?” Ryuichi asked curiously.

“We're just going to go to my place and order pizza, or something,” Hiro told the older man.

“What?” Ryuichi cried in shock. “That's so booor~iiing! You guys should be celebrating! You just had your very first concert and you blew them aaall away! You were waaay better than, uhm…” He scratched his head in confusion. “Who were those guys again?” Hiro opened his mouth to answer that Bad Luck had opened up for another band, ASK, also signed onto NG Productions, but Ryuichi shrugged it off as if the answer was of no importance. “Anyway,” he continued, “you guys should go out and celebrate! Oh, I know! How about karaoke? Or we can go clubbing? Oo! Oo! There is this new all night café that just opened up. We can go there!”

Hiro shook his head. “No, thanks,” he managed around a yawn. “I'm beat. Maybe some other time?”

“Aw,” Ryuichi pouted. “You're such a party pooper.”

Hiro chuckled. “Why don't you go, though, Shuichi?” he suggested, turning towards his friend. For the passed month, Shuichi has been in a depressed funk. Even the excitement over finally being signed onto a major record label and their first successful show opening up for one of NG Productions’ newest and hottest groups had not been enough to snap his best friend out of it. It might be a good thing for him to spend a little time with the rock god.

Shuichi’s eyes widened. “What?” he gasped. “Me? B-but, Hiro! What about-?”

Hiro patted his friends shoulder. “It's fine Shu. Go. Have some fun. You deserve it. You were great tonight.”

Ryuichi nodded in agreement. “He's right, Shuichi.”

“B-but,” Shuichi sputtered. He could not explain it, but Shuichi just did not want to be left alone with this man.

“Come on,” Ryuichi prodded. He grabbed Shuichi’s hand and pulled the younger man behind him as he made for the backstage door of Zepp Tokyo.

“B-but, Ryuichi! Wait a minute! Hiro?”

“Have fun, Shu,” Hiro called after his friend.

Shuichi bit his lip as Ryuichi Sakuma dragged him down the street. He was not so sure about this. He hoped he was not making a mistake

 

* * *

 

“Who were you looking for?”

Shuichi blinked, startled out his thoughts that were instantly forgotten by the sudden question. “What?” He turned and looked at Ryuichi. Gone was the innocent childlike man that he had seen backstage at Zepp Tokyo. In its place was the serious singer whom had sung with him earlier on stage. It was somewhat unnerving.

“During the concert. You seemed somewhat distracted. Like you weren’t all there.”

Shuichi found that he was a little unsettled by the almost split personality his idol displayed as well as the astute perceptions the man seemed o possess. Startled by the sudden powerful insight, Shuichi was shocked into silence. He opened his mouth, but closed it without saying anything. He tried again. “I-I don't-”

“Shuichi,” Ryuichi scolded.

It took half a dozen tries, but Shuichi finally managed to say, “I--we broke up…last month.” He cleared his throat violently and blinked away the sudden unsought of tears that stung his eyes. “But I thought he’d…I mean, maybe…” Shuichi shook his head, sighing. “Never mind,” he mumbled.

“You still love him-”

Shuichi bit his lip and turned away from the penetrating stare of the older man. Tears stun his eyes and his throat constricted around a sob. His chest hurt and his heart ached.

“-don't you?”

As a stray tear rolled freely down his cheek, Shuichi sniffled and nodded as he did not trust himself to speak. If he opened his mouth, he would not be able to stop the sobs. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ryuichi stop. Shuichi did as well, but did not turn towards him. Instead, he hugged his arms around his waist and stared down at the ground.

Ryuichi reached out and touched his young companion's shoulder. He gently turned the boy around and was saddened to see Shuichi crying. He smiled softly. “I like you,” he confessed, “and I showed up.”

Shuichi stood frozen before Ryuichi Sakuma as the brunette’s face drew closer to his. He gasped in shock and his vivid lavender eyes widened in surprise as his music god pressed his lips against his.

 

* * *

 

**The Torrent Room -- Tokyo, Japan -- One Month Later**

Ryuichi sneezed violently into a tissue. Dammit, he thought miserably. He knew he should have stayed home. He felt horrible.

His head was pounding, it felt as if someone were using his brain as a punching bag and he ached all over. Even his aches had aches. To top it all off, his nose was not only stuffed, but running like a leaky faucet. He probably resembled Rudolph by now.

Wiping his nose, he crumbled the tissue up and tossed it into the nearest garbage can. Turning, he scanned the banquet hall that had been rented out for the night by NG Productions for a party welcoming Bad Luck, his boyfriend of one month’s band, to the record label as he took out his small bottle of hand sanitizer.

“Hey, Ryu,” called out a male voice.

Ryuichi turned around and smiled as he watched a tall, thin male of Japanese descent stride towards him. “Hey! Daisuke. What’s going on?” he greeted as he shoved the travel-sized bottle of clear gel back inside his bag.

The men bowed towards each other in greeting.

“Not much.”

“Hey, you haven’t seen Shuichi have you?” Ryuichi asked. His boyfriend vanished the instant they had arrived.

“I just saw him with Noriko and her husband.”

“Cool. Thanks.”

“By the way, Ryuichi, I have someone I want you to meet.” Daisuke indicated a man standing behind and slightly to the left of him.

Immediately, Ryuichi forgot about his head that felt as if it were about to explode and his leaky, clogged up nose. The collection of noise surrounding him vanished until there was nothing but peaceful silence into which was heard his fiercely and heavily beating heart. It was so loud he was surprised that nobody else could hear it. The room around him dimmed out of existence.

His breath hitched and his eyes widened fractionally as a man a good several inches taller than Daisuke stepped forward. Trailing down to tickle the collar of his black suit jacket, the man had jet-black hair was slickened back off his forehead. There was a lot of bulk to the man, but the black suit he wore fit him in such a way that it was hard to tell what the bulk was from. Deep chocolate brown eyes stared at him with such intensity that they made Ryuichi feel a vague sense of unease.

“Tatsuha,” Daisuke said, turning towards the man, “this is Ryuichi Sakuma.”

Tatsuha stepped forward with a look upon his face that made Ryuichi suddenly wish he had not taken Shuichi’s advice and worn tight leather pants. “I am sure glad I decided to come in my brother’s place,” Tatsuha murmured as he scanned Ryuichi up and down causing Ryuichi’s blush to deepen. “It’s very nice to meet you, Ryuichi,” he said sticking out his hand. “I’m Tatsuha. Tatsuha Uesugi. I’m a huge fan.”

Tatsuha’s deep voice reverberated within Ryuichi’s chest. “Nice--to meet you, Tatsuha,” he whispered over his fiercely beating heart. A strange blush flushed hotly across Ryuichi’s face.

 

* * *

 

**Kampai Café -- Two Months Later**

The sun was shinning brightly and warmly. The sky was an endless sea of blue without even a hint of a cloud in sight. The breeze was light and warm. It was a beautiful, perfect day.

Humming happily, Shuichi strode down the street, skirting around the heavy throng of people with ease as he made his way home from the studio.

He felt great!

Bad Luck had worked through yet another night on their upcoming debut album and had surprisingly accomplished quite a lot. It might have a lot to do with the fact that both of their managers had called in personal days. Daisuke was currently going through a nasty divorce and K’s wife has apparently not been feeling too well for quite some time now. They believed she might have cancer, but would not be sure until after all the tests came in.

Then their producer left soon after, saying something about errands he had to do for Tohma.

It was no big loss. With both their managers and producer gone, the five members of Bad Luck managed to accomplish more than they normally would with them present. Shuichi was satisfied with the way the album was coming along, but as terrific as he was feeling about the album, Shuichi was completely exhausted and all he wanted to do was get home to bed and Ryuichi. Smiling widely at the thought of his lover, he giggled happily, his eyes sparkling.

It was strange. Just three months ago, he had been another fan, watching Ryuichi's music videos, going to his concerts, drooling over his posters and listening to his CDs and now here he was sharing an apartment with the man. He went from worshipping his rock god from a distance to having his god worshipping him.

As he waited patiently at the corner for the light to change, his gaze wandered and landed on a very familiar sight. Lowering his sunglasses, he peered across the street and studied the small outdoor café. He smiled widely, recognizing the place instantly. Ryuichi took him there for their first date, the night Bad Luck opened for ASK at Zepp Tokyo. He blushed madly as he remembered how that night ended.

The light changed and the crowd surged forward, taking Shuichi along with it. As he crossed the street, he caught sight of a suspicious looking figure hidden in a baseball cap and dark sunglasses strolling out of the café and taking a seat in the shadows of the outdoor patio. Shuichi recognized him instantly.

“Ryu,” he whispered.

He grinned widely. It seemed like forever since he saw his boyfriend. He called him early yesterday evening, informing him that he planned to stay at the studio for as long as they were doing well and then Ryuichi called to say “goodnight” before going to bed, but it seemed like a lifetime ago. Ryuichi was a welcome sight.

Shuichi wondered briefly what Ryuichi was doing at the café.

Deciding to surprise his lover, Shuichi made his way stealthily towards the café when a sleek, black motorcycle pulled up in front of the café, rumbling obnoxiously. Then silence descended upon the neighborhood.

The rider pocketed the key, stood up and toed the kickstand. Shuichi watched mesmerized as the rider swung his long leg jean clad over the bike and stood on the sidewalk. The biker grabbed his helmet with black gloved hands and lifted it off his head. The man ran his fingers through his silky black locks as he held his helmet under his arm with his other hand.

When the man turned around, Shuichi gasped. An image flashed through his mind of a man with hazel eyes golden like the sun that seemed to be looking straight into his soul and artily disheveled honey blond hair towering above those around him with an almost snow white complexion and a smirk on his face that made things low in his body tighten.

“Eiri,” Shuichi whispered.

What the hell?

He studied this man closely. Despite the black hair, dark eyes and tanner complexion, yes, this guy certainly did look like Eiri. Shuichi wondered who he was. His brother, perhaps? Eiri had said he’d had a younger brother.

Shuichi tracked the movements of this Eiri look-alike as he walked towards the café. Violet eyes hidden behind dark shades narrowed as Ryuichi, a toothy grin on his face, stood up at the sight of this motorcycle riding man.

“Tatsuha,” Ryuichi called out sounding quite happy--excited even--to see him.

“Tatsuha?” Shuichi echoed.

The biker, Tatsuha, answered with a grin of his own and looking just as excited to see Ryuichi.

How did this Tatsuha guy know Ryuichi? What was he to Ryuichi? And why had Ryuichi not said anything about meeting someone for lunch? It could be possible that this Tatsuha guy was an old friend of Ryuichi’s and called Ryuichi up when he realized that he was going to be in town. But why had he never heard anything about this guy before and what was this feeling twisting within his gut?

Shuichi watched as his boyfriend stood up as Tatsuha approached, his grin and excitement at the sight of this mystery man growing. The two spoke softly; Shuichi was too far away to hear what they said, but whatever it was had Ryuichi blushing and Tatsuha chuckling.

The twisting in his gut intensified sharply.

Shuichi tried to convince himself that none of this meant anything; that his jumping to conclusions before he had any solid proof one way or another--any sort of facts--was only going to do more harm than good.

But when the two men embraced warmly their embrace lingering a moment too long for mere friends no matter how close the two may be, it was difficult to believe those excuses.

His eyebrows shot into his hairline. Now he really wanted to know who this guy was.

As he started towards the café, intent on finding out just what was going on, he came to a sudden halt, his breath hitching with a gasp. He stood frozen. The color drained from his face. His mind went blank. All he could do was stare at the couple standing in the middle of the café suddenly and inexplicably tongue wrestling. He developed a case of tunnel vision. He was not aware of the other pedestrians jostling him as they rushed by him. He did not hear their shouts or curses or see the dirty looks they threw him. The only thing Shuichi was aware of was his boyfriend in the arms of another man.

 

* * *

 

On the patio of Kampai, Ryuichi’s hands lightly caressed the other man’s arm as he reluctantly pulled away. Ryuichi’s face was rosy. His eyes sparkled.

“Sorry I'm late,” his date apologized.

Ryuichi shook his head. “Don't worry about it, Tats. I just got here myself,” he assured him with a smile.

“What did you tell Shuichi?”

“Nothing. He's at the studio. He’s been there all night with his band working on their album. He'll go straight home to bed when he finishes.”

“Good, so we should be all right.”

Ryuichi nodded, but then a frown marred his face. He glanced over his date's shoulder. It felt like he was being watched. Not like it was anything new. He was a celebrity after all, but he had to be extra careful nowadays. Maybe agreeing to meet Tatsuha here had not been a good idea. If word got back to Shu-

When Ryuichi's gaze landed on a small man hidden behind a pair of dark shades and a baseball cap, he froze and gasped. His eyes grew wide.

Tatsuha frowned when he felt Ryuichi tense in his arms. “Ryu? What's wrong?” He glanced down at his lover and saw him staring at something over his shoulder. The older singer looked like he’d seen a ghost. Turning around, he followed Ryuichi's gaze. “Well,” he said calmly as realized they had been caught. Tatsuha stepped aside to watch the two singer's face-off.

Ryuichi stared across the outdoor café at his boyfriend. Shuichi was watching him with a look of confusion, bewilderment and hurt on his face. For the first time in his life, Ryuichi was at a loss for words. A surge of emotion rushed through him. He stepped forward and reached out towards the younger man. “Shuichi,” he whispered. “Shu, I-”

It was like being awaken from a dream. Shuichi shook his head vigorously as tears snaked their way down his face. He kept shaking his head as he slowly backed up. He was trying to convince himself that this was just a bad dream. It was a sick joke.

Ryuichi slipped off his sunglasses and took another step forward.

Tatsuha just watched everything with a neutral expression, though inside, he was screaming for the pink haired brat to just go away.

One glance into his boyfriend’s face was all Shuichi needed. All he had to do was look into those gorgeous deep baby blues and he knew. Something broke inside Shuichi. Spinning around, he fled down the street, vanishing among the thick cluster of people and sobbing uncontrollably with tears coursing down his face.

Ryuichi let his hand drop to his side. He stared blankly where Shuichi just moments before stood. A lone tear tickled down his face.

Frowning, Tatsuha turned and studied his lover with a troubled expression on his face.

 

* * *

 

**Shindou-Sakuma Residence -- Three Weeks Later**

With a key in hand, a figure approached the apartment slowly. He wore a hat pulled low over his face. The collar of his jacket was flipped up. He stood before the door, trembling.

It had taken everything Ryuichi had to come face Shuichi today. He had never been so scared in his entire life. He had no idea what he was going to say or how Shuichi was going to react. Would Shuichi forgive him and give him a second chance or tell him to go to hell?

Taking a deep breath, Ryuichi gathered his courage and slipped the key into the lock. The door unlocked with a click as the tumblers shifted. He turned the doorknob and slowly pushed the door open. Pulling off his sunglasses, he hooked them in his shirt and gulped as he stared into the darkened apartment. His pulse was racing. Licking dry lips, he gulped and stepped over the threshold.

He wrinkled his nose in disgust as he walked into the apartment. There was a horrendous smell in the air. Guess they were not kidding when they said Shuichi shut himself away, he thought.

He gazed sadly around the stale, cave-like environment. It looked as if all the shades and curtains in the apartment were drawn. All the lights were off and none of the windows apparently were open if the stench was an indication. Had he reduced Shuichi to this?

Pocketing his house key, Ryuichi shut the door behind him and picked his way through the living room towards the sliding glass doors that led out to the balcony. He cursed as he tripped over, stepped on or knocked into something with every step he took.

He searched among the folds of the curtain blindly for the drawstring and when he found it yanked it and the curtain flew open. Ryuichi hissed and cringed away from the bright afternoon sunlight as it streamed into the living room, blinding him. After his eyes adjusted, Ryuichi unlocked the balcony doors and slid them open, allowing the cool afternoon breeze to circulate through the apartment. Much better, he thought turning around.

Blinking stupidly, he stared at the sight before him. “What the bloody hell?” he gasped seconds later. The living room was in complete shambles.

His gaze swept over the destroyed house and landed on the photo of Shuichi and him that hung on the wall above the stereo system. He took an unsteady breath and blinked back tears.

He took in what left of the Buddhist altar. Ryuichi could picture Shuichi kneeling before the altar with tears coursing down his face as he prayed to Buddha, wondering why he was made to suffer. What had he done to deserve this? Was he being punished for something in a previous life? Had he not been an attentive lover? Had he done something to upset Ryuichi? Why had the universe turned its back on him? Why was this happening to him? Why?

Tears blurred Ryuichi’s vision. No Shuichi, he thought. It’s not you.

In his minds eye, he watched as Shuichi jumped to his feet with an angst-filled scream. His face was contorted in rage. Angry tears coursed down his face as he smashed the altar, sending the statue of Buddha flying across the room and into the wall, where it smashed into hundreds of pieces all except for the head, which was left untouched but for a small crack that appeared down his cheek. It was as if Buddha himself was crying. The incense holder and flower vases clattered to the floor. Water rained down the wall and puddled to the floor. Ash snowed down, scattered as if blown by the wind. The flowers were strewn before the balcony doors, wilted and dead. The runner laid hanging off the edge of the table. The candles lay in the middle of the living room, their holders stood forlornly on the table.

“Shuichi.”

Next, Shuichi would turn towards the stereo system, which was the next nearest target. The system had been expensive, but well worth the investment. Their CD collection that included music from all over the world, as well as some hard to find albums, was stacked in the curvy CD towers secured to the wall. Or had been. Now the CDs were scattered all over the living room. Their cases were smashed. Ryuichi picked up one of the CD cases that were still largely intact. The compact disk had a large crack down the middle. He set it on the one speaker that remained standing and was mostly undamaged. The rest of the system, like the CDs, was strewn about the living room. He bet anything that it was broken. So much for that investment.

The stack of various music and teen magazines, which they kept in clear plastic cubes near the stereo system was next to take Shuichi's wrath. The magazines had been torn to shreds. The pages were sprinkled around the room like confetti. Ryuichi picked up what was left of one of the magazines. It looked as if a dog had been gnawing on it. He dropped the magazine back on the floor and looked around.

The knick-knacks he had been collecting from all over the world had been swept off their perches and onto the floor and shattered to dust.

It looked as if anything and everything he could get his hands on, Shuichi tossed, chucked, smashed and destroyed in his all-consuming anger. If this was what the living room looked like, Ryuichi was afraid to see the rest of the apartment.

He swallowed over a lump in his throat. Tears pricked his eyes. “I'm so sorry, Shuichi.”

_“What're you more upset about? That you've been cheating on him for two months or that you were caught?”_ asked Tatsuha in his head.

Ryuichi picked his way through the mess and down the hall to the bedroom as he remembered his reply, _“I love him, Tatsuha. I always have and I always will. I have to try to fix things with him.”_

_“But…But what about me? Us?”_ Tatsuha had then asked.

Ryuichi stood before the master suite. He reached out with a trembling hand, but jerked his hand back at the last minute and clenched his hand into a fist. He dropped his hand to his side and stared at the closed door. Dropping his head forward, he squeezed his eyes shut.

 

* * *

 

_Ryuichi sighed, “Tatsuha…”_

_“Don't my feelings count for anything?” Tatsuha cried searching Ryuichi’s face frantically. He had a look of stricken panic on his face._

_“Of course they do! You know that!”_

_An inkling of hope appeared amongst the panic. “Then-?”_

_Ryuichi smiled gently. “I love him. I have since the moment I saw him and I want to make things right with him.”_

 

* * *

 

Taking a deep breath, Ryuichi lifted his head and reached for the doorknob. Turning the knob, he pushed open the door with his index finger and stared into the darkened room.

His pulse was racing.

Licking his lips, he gulped and stepped over the threshold. He wrinkled his nose in disgust as he stepped into the bedroom. There was that horrendous smell again. In the dim light, he took in the state of the bedroom. From what he could see, it was in a similar condition as the living room.

The closet door was wide open, its contents spewed all over the floor as if the closet itself had been sick.

The dresser and nightstand drawers were hanging open, their contents scattered to the four winds as if a bomb had gone off. A few of the drawers had been ripped out and flung across the room. There was a trail of miscellaneous junk in their wake.

The lamp and alarm clock that used to sit on Shuichi’s nightstand were missing. Ryuichi could see the red glow of the clock rising up from behind the nightstand. He spotted the lamp in the far corner of the room. Other than the missing shade, it appeared to be unscathed.

The dresser top had been wiped clean. Deodorant that was missing their caps, hair gel and wax, cologne bottles whose contents had leak out (which would explain the smell in the apartment), combs, brushes, jewelry and makeup cases, pill bottles whose contents were scattered all over the place like droppings, and Shuichi’s contact lens equipment littered the room. The mirror above the dresser had a spider-webbed crack in the center of it. A crack snaked its way from the epicenter down to the bottom.

Ryuichi's eyes widened with a gasp. Did Shuichi do that? Was he hurt?

He turned towards the bed and spotted a lump buried underneath the blankets. He wiped his sweating palms on his pants. Swallowing over a lump in his throat, he took deep, even breaths to try to calm his racing heart. He clenched shaking hands and licked dry lips. Steeling himself, he shut the door behind him and walked towards the bed, hoping that it was Shuichi and at the same time praying that it was not.

 

* * *

 

_“Please, Ryuichi,” Tatsuha tried pleading one last time. His voice was thick. His eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “Don't do this!”_

_“Tatsuha, I love him,” Ryuichi said again in a soft calm voice._

_“But why?”_

_Ryuichi did not have an answer to that._

_Tatsuha grew enraged. “Dammit! What about me?!”_

_“Tatsuha, you know I love you.”_

_“Then why are you going back to him?” Tatsuha shouted._

_“I told you why…Listen, Tatsuha. Shuichi has nothing to do with you. He has nothing to do--with us.”_

_Tatsuha’s eyes grew wide. “…What?”_

 

* * *

 

“Get out.”

Ryuichi was startled out of his thoughts by Shuichi’s muffled voice that came from beneath the layers of the blankets on the bed. “Shu-”

“Get--out--now,” Shuichi ordered. His voice was tight and even.

“Please, Shuichi,” Ryuichi pleaded. “Let me explain.”

With a low growl, Shuichi flung back the covers and sat up. He glared through the dim light at his boyfriend. “What's there to explain,” he yelled angrily. “You fucking cheated on me!”

A sharp pain jolted through Ryuichi’s heart.

“How could you do this to me?” Shuichi sobbed. A lone tear strayed down his cheek.

Ryuichi’s chest tightened. There was so much pain in Shuichi’s eyes that Ryuichi found he had to look away.

“We were together three months. Three months!” Shuichi’s face was red with rage. “I gave you everything!”

I’m not too sure about that, Ryuichi thought as he thought back to that night three months back.

Shuichi sharpened his gaze at once. “What?” he demanded.

Ryuichi mentally cursed when he realized he said that a loud. He shook his head vigorously. “Look-”

“Shut up,” Shuichi snapped. “I do not want to hear a damn thing you have to say. I thought I knew you. I thought you loved me. I trusted you! I loved you and you played me like a fool! I don't ever want to see your face again!”

Ryuichi’s heart ached. “I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you, you have to believe me.”

“Get--out.” Shuichi’s voice had gone dangerously low.

“Shuichi, please! I do love you! I've loved you since the moment I saw you.”

“Liar.”

Ryuichi’s eyes widened. He took a step further into the room. “No, please!”

“If you loved me so goddamn much then how could you…” Shuichi’s voice dwindled into tears. “How could you…? What did I do? How could you do this to me? To us?”

“You didn't do anything! It was…I do not know how it happened. I have no excuses. All I can say is that I was weak.”

That was not the verb Shuichi would have chosen.

“I-I was--I just--I couldn't…I know it was a mistake,” Ryuichi choked out. “It just happened!”

“’Just happened’? Are you freaking kidding me? Bull--shit! You don't ‘just happen’ to sleep with someone! You don't ‘just happen’ to let someone stick his tongue down your throat! You got involved with him willingly!”

“It was a mistake, Shuichi. You have to believe me! I love you! I never meant for it to go this far! I was lonely. You were always working and…I don't know what came over me. I just…Please, Shu! Tatsuha meant nothing! Nothing! It was only a one-time thing! I called him that day to, to break it off! Please!”

“Why should I believe you after what you did to me?”

“God, Shuichi! I'm sorry! It won't happen again,” Ryuichi sobbed. “I swear to God! I never meant to hurt you! Never!”

Shuichi’s face softened.

“I swear to God it'll never happen again! Please, just, just give me a second chance!”

“…I don't know, Ryuichi. I don't think I can. You hurt me.”

The hand unclenched from Ryuichi’s heart just the littlest bit. “I know. I know I screwed up, screwed up big time! I know that and I know I lost your trust and respect and I do not expect you to ever forgive me. I wouldn't blame you if you hated me and never wanted to see me again, but I…I-”

“I don't hate you, Ryu,” Shuichi rejected softly. “I never could. I love you. That's why it hurts so much…I just…”

“Give me a second chance, I beg you.”

Shuichi watched Ryuichi dejectedly as the other man searched his face frantically for some sign. “…I don't…”

“Please!”

 

* * *

 

**Kunikoen Park -- Tokyo, Japan -- A Week Later**

The picnic table was hidden in the shade of a triumvirate of trees.

The lavatory was off to his right. A little girl no more than five raced inside, her mother several yards behind her.

Behind him was the parking lot that was filled to capacity. A car was circling, trying in vain to find a spot.

Couples and families stretched out on either side of him for as far as he could see. They were picnicking and sun bathing. Some were riding bikes; others were either on roller skates, scooters or skateboards, while still others were on foot, walking, running or speed walking along the bike path that followed the length of the river.

The afternoon was warm. The sky was a deep, endless blue with no clouds in sight. The sun was shinning brightly. The breeze was light and warm. The waves crashed upon the rocks. Spray glistened in the sunlight, but Shuichi was oblivious to it all. He sat hidden in the shadows staring blankly out over the water as the events from a week ago replayed in his head.

Shuichi dropped his face in his hands. He was so confused.

Suguru’s angry snap echoed in his head, _“You know as well as I do that if he did it once, he will do it again. I personally think you should dump his ass and tell him to go to hell.”_

Even Hiro had agreed with the young keyboardist when Shuichi had asked for his opinion. _“We're not talking about me. This is about you. What do you want to do?”_

But that was the whole problem. What did he want to do? He knew without a doubt that he loved Ryuichi, despite what the man did. Ryuichi hurt him, betrayed him, his trust and respect. He did not like to admit it, but Suguru was right. What proof did he have that Ryuichi would not do it again? Ryuichi had apologized a week ago for his poor judgment and promised never to do something to hurt him again, but Shuichi was not sure if he believed him.

Part of Shuichi agreed with Suguru’s sentiment, but there was a little voice inside his head that was telling him that everybody deserved a second chance, even a no good two timing bastard like Ryuichi.

No, Shuichi knew what he should do, but he was not sure if it was what he wanted to do.

Ryuichi’s pleading voice and his tear stained face popped into Shuichi’s head. _“I'm so sorry. Please give me a second chance. Please. It'll never happen again.”_

Growling, Shuichi scrubbed his hands over his face. He was not afraid to admit that he was scared. As much as he loved Ryuichi and as much as he wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, he did not want to go through this again. It hurt too much.

_“Give me a second chance. Give me a chance to prove to you that I love you. Please.”_

With a sigh, Shuichi stood up, stepped over the bench and shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans, made his way across the parking lot. As he made his way slowly down the street, he let his mind wander back over the past few months and by the time he reached the apartment, he had come to a decision.

He thanked the doorman who held the door open for him, made his way across the lobby to the elevator, and pushed the up button. As he waited, he hugged his arms around himself and tried to settle the butterflies in his stomach. The elevator dinged and seconds later slid open. Shuichi dropped his arms and stepped inside. He pressed the button for his floor and as he watched the elevator doors slide closed, his nervousness intensified. He hoped he was making the right decision.

 

* * *

 

**Shindou-Sakuma Residence -- Tokyo, Japan -- That Evening**

The door opened, throwing light into the shadow-strewn hallway. Ryuichi stepped into the apartment and tossed his keys on the table next to the front door as he shut the door behind him. Toeing off his shoes, he shrugged out of his jacket and opening the closet, hung it up. Taking off his hat, he tossed it on the top shelf. Shutting the closet door, he turned and jumped with a yelp.

“Shuichi,” he exclaimed in surprise. “What are you…?”

Shuichi stepped forward and smiled softly. “Hello, Ryuichi.”

Ryuichi opened his mouth, and then closed it, at a loss of words.

“I…” Shuichi stared at his feet, gathering his thoughts. “I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive you,” he said quietly.

Ryuichi’s shoulders sagged. He nodded in understanding.

“But…”

Ryuichi’s ears perked and he caught his breath, waiting in anticipation.

“I'm…I'm willing to give you a second chance.”

“Really?” Ryuichi felt his heart sore.

Shuichi raised his head and stared into Ryuichi's eyes. “But you have to earn my trust back. You hurt me. Bad.”

Ryuichi nodded. He had expected as much. He would do everything in his power to win back Shuichi’s trust and respect, to make up for what he did to his boyfriend. He stepped towards him, but Shuichi stepped back and shook his head. “Shu? What…?”

“Don't make me regret this, Ryuichi. Don't make me sorry I gave you this second chance.”

“You won't,” Ryuichi assured the young singer. He stepped forward and embraced him tightly. “You won't regret this.” He planted a kiss on the younger man's newly golden blond head. “I love you, Shuichi. Thank you.”

Shuichi wrapped his arms around Ryuichi's waist and stared at the closed front door with blank olive green eyes, but remained silent. He hoped he was doing the right thing.

 

**…To Be Continued…**

 

**A/N:** For those who wonder, “Kampai” is Japanese for “Cheers”, “kuni” is “neighborhood” and “koen” is “park”. Of course, “Kunikoen” as far as I know doesn’t mean anything. It’s the name of the park.

 

 


	2. Ryuichi’s Blunder and Eiri’s Determination

**Chapter 2: Ryuichi’s Blunder and Eiri’s Determination**

**Friday Evening -- Shindou-Sakuma Residence – Ichigaya Park Tower -- Tokyo, Japan -- Six Months Later**

The apartment was silent and at first appeared empty.

By the front door was a pair of shoes that dwarfed the smaller sneakers next to them. Hanging in the closet was a black leather jacket that, like the shoes, miniaturized the others surrounding it. A black helmet sat on the floor next to the door.

In the living room, a smoldering cigarette lay next to several spent butts in the ashtray besides two coffee mugs on the coffee table--one was empty and the other was a quarter full--that covered a newspaper, opened to the entertainment section. Its pages had been folded back to reveal a color photo of a man with flaming red hair strutting across a stage, his head thrown back in the midst of a song. The man was dressed in a tight, sleeveless stretch black T-shirt that was tucked into a pair of black jeans cinched low around his waist by a wide black belt with a silver skull buckle and black heeled boots. The caption under the picture read, “Shuichi singing with Bad Luck ‘Bird’ at the San Jose McEnery Convention Center in San Francisco, California for 2008 Fanime Con”. The headline above the picture in bold black font read, “ **Bad Luck hits it big in the US** ”.

A light on the answering machine behind the sofa blinked “ **2** ” in bright, vivid red.

Down the hall, two hushed voices emanated from the bedroom.

“-round of anime fests in the States and Canada then ending with one in Toronto. He won't be back until Wednesday at the earliest.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I talked to him last night.”

There was the sound of rustling sheets.

“Don't take this the wrong way, Ryu, but, why didn't you go? I mean, Nittle Grasper was supposed to go on this tour, right?”

“We were.”

“So why'd you pull out?”

Ryuichi sniffed dramatically. “Because I was sick.”

His partner chuckled deeply. “Really?”

“Yep.”

There was more rustling and a cry of ecstasy shattered the silence of the apartment.

“I love you, Ryuichi-honey.”

Ryuichi chuckled at the nickname his younger lover had given him. “I love you, too Tatsuha.”

In the living room, a portrait hanging in a black frame on the wall above the stereo system slipped from the nail it was hanging on, dangling precariously for several long seconds before it came crashing down. It hit the radio with a muffled “thump”, teetering off to land on the lip of the table, seesawing back and forth like a teeter-totter before gravity reached up and snatched it. The picture landed face up on the floor. A loud tinkling of glass echoed through the living room. A thick crack split the glass in two, dividing the smiling, happy lovers.

The blinking red light on the answering machine changed from “ **2** ” to “ **3** ”.

 

* * *

 

**Marriott -- Pittsburgh, PA --Same Time**

With a heavy sigh, Shuichi cradled the receiver. He bit his lip as he stared at the phone thoughtfully.

He jumped when a hand landed suddenly on his shoulder. His hand over his racing heart, Shuichi glared at his best friend of nearly nineteen years. “Dammit, Hiro! Do not do that. You scared the shit out of me!”

“No answer?” Hiro grinned mischievously as he walked across the room and plopped down into a chair.

Shuichi studied his best friend. He has known Hiroshi Nakano since they were five years old. According to Hiro’s mother, one day during winter break while Hiro was outside playing with his older brother, Hiro happened to come upon a hysterically sobbing Shuichi who had apparently slipped on a patch of ice and banged himself up good. They have been friends ever since.

Shuichi sighed and racked his fingers through his layered shoulder length flaming red hair. “No,” he said, “and I called three times. You don't think anything happened to him, do you?”

“Doubt it. He’s probably sleeping, or something. I mean, Nittle Grasper had to pull out of doing the convention tour because he was sick.”

“Yeah,” Shuichi sighed. “But that's why I'm worried, ya know? I mean, because he’s sick.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it. Ryuichi’s a big boy and can look after himself.”

“Yeah…” Shuichi let his voice trail off as he stared at the suite phone.

There were dozens of reasons why Ryuichi was not answering the phone. Like Hiro said, Ryuichi was sick and was most likely sleeping, and therefore could not hear the phone. Shuichi himself had missed more than one phone call because you couldn‘t hear the phone from the kitchen in the master bedroom, which was on the opposite end of the large condominium the two had recently purchased together. They really had to get an extension in the master suite, or at least in that end of the house. Or maybe Ryuichi was starting to feel better and had gone out for a walk, or something.

Despite the numerous logical reasons that Shuichi tried to reassure himself with, his thoughts inevitably turned darker, but before they could fully formulate, Hiro’s voice broke into his thoughts.

“If you're that worried, you can always call Mr. Seguchi and have him check up on Ryuichi,” Hiro suggested. “And when you find that you're worrying over nothing, you can find me downstairs getting breakfast.”

Absently, Shuichi nodded, his gaze riveted on the phone.

Distantly, he heard the door open and then click shut.

Hoping and praying that Hiro was right and he was worrying for nothing, but knowing that he probably wasn’t, Shuichi picked up the suite phone and made a long distanced phone call to Japan.

 

* * *

 

**Shindou-Sakuma Residence -- Ichigaya Park Tower -- Tokyo, Japan -- An Hour Later**

Tohma pulled into the parking lot of one of the city’s most expensive and luxurious high-rise condominium complexes and parked in an area shadowed by the numerous branches hanging low over the stonewall separating the condominium from its neighbor.

Turning off the ignition, he pocketed his cellphone and car keys.

Unlocking his car door, he swung the door open--being careful not to hit the car parked next to his--and stepped out in the cool evening air. Shutting the door behind him, he turned and stopped dead.

His eyes froze on the couple standing just inside the front door of the condominium lobby. Stupefied, Tohma could do nothing more than watch as his best friend stood in a passionate lip lock with a man who did not have layered, shoulder length bright red hair or those astonishing turquoise eyes, a man a good half a foot taller, a man definitely not Shuichi Shindou.

He was so astonished--shocked--dismayed; he was not sure how he felt at the moment. His mind was such a jumbled mess by the scene he was witnessing that he failed to notice a black compact car parked across the street from the condominium, nor did he hear the insistent clicking coming from the bushes not too far from where he stood, stunned into disbelief and silence.

What was going on?

As the two men parted, Tohma’s eyes went wide. “Tatsuha,” he whispered in disbelief. No, it couldn’t be. This guy just looked like his brother-in-law. His mind must have just naturally made that leap. There was no way Tatsuha would become involved with a married man. He had been raised better than that, especially given his family history.

At sixteen, Tatsuha Uesugi was the second son and third child born to the parents of Tohma’s wife Mika. He worked part time at a grocery store as a cashier after school and also happened to be a major player according to Mika. Tatsuha had more partners, both male and female, than there were stars visible in the nighttime sky.

The “other man”, Tohma still refused to believe it was Tatsuha, kissed Ryuichi chastely on the lips one last time before striding across the parking lot and hopping on the back of a sleek black motorcycle. He slipped on a black helmet, righted the cycle and toed up the kickstand. He pulled out a key from the pocket of his leather jacket, placed it in the ignition and turned it. Like most vehicles nowadays, the headlight automatically flared to life despite the bright, gorgeous spring morning. A second later, a loud rumble roared through the parking lot.

“Love you, Tatsuha!”

Tohma snapped his head around, staring at his old friend in shock, before he was able to school his expression. He felt suddenly lightheaded and was on the verge of becoming nauseous. So it was Tatsuha after all.

“Dammit.”

Tohma hadn’t wanted to believe it. Now, he didn’t have a choice.

What was Tatsuha doing? It was not as if he was not aware that the man he had been kissing just a little too eagerly just moments ago was currently in a serious relationship with someone. All Tatsuha had to do was turn on the television or pick up a magazine.

More importantly, what did Ryuichi think he was doing? Did he not realize that this was exactly what caused him to lose Shuichi once before? Was this why he wanted to pull out of the convention tour?

Tohma watched as his brother-in-law blew Ryuichi a kiss before pulling out of the parking lot. Still smiling, Ryuichi turned and walked back into the lobby, disappearing quickly from Tohma's sight.

Tohma clenched his hands into fists. Anger as he never felt before surged through him. He was not sure who he was angrier with, Ryuichi, Tatsuha, Shuichi …or himself.

What was he supposed to tell Shuichi?

 

* * *

 

There was a long, heavy sigh over the line. “I knew it.”

Tohma blinked in astonishment, tearing his eyes away from the high-rise condominium. “What? Knew it? What are you saying? Don't tell me you knew Eiri Uesugi!”

“No, I didn't know,” snapped Eiri angrily. He settled back in his desk chair and took a long drag from his cigarette. He blew out a long, thin stream of grey smoke. “I knew my idiot brother was seeing someone but I wasn't sure who it was he was seeing.” He reached out for the ashtray and dragged it across the desk. Tapping off the ashes threatening to fall onto his new pair of pants, Eiri sat back in his chair, hearing the leather squeak as he moved. “He's always had this thing for Sakuma but I never expected…” He sighed heavily.

Eiri had always known his brother was an idiotic moron, but he never would have guessed Tatsuha to be this reckless, or stupid.

And Sakuma! He had a good thing going with Shuichi. There were people who would give anything to be in Ryuichi Sakuma’s shoes. Not only was he considered practically a god by his fans, but also, he was a talented actor and songwriter, had an incredible voice, was one of the country’s most beautiful and wealthiest men and not to mention, he was dating an equally, if not more, talented man. Shuichi’s band Bad Luck may be new to the scene, but he had a growing fan base that worshipped and loved him. He had the body of a god and the voice of an angel. How could Sakuma even think of looking elsewhere?

Something about this scenario seemed familiar somehow and that was when he remembered. Awhile back, Eiri remembered reading something in the tabloids about Shuichi catching his boyfriend cheating on him. Instead of dumping him, the guy decided to give him a second chance. No, Eiri took it back. Tatsuha and Ryuichi were not the morons here. That honor fell to one Shuichi Shindou. What was he thinking, or not thinking as the case may be. Why was he even with that moron who was obviously suffering from Alzheimer’s? If he were with him-

“What was that, Eiri?” Tohma asked, snapping Eiri out of his thoughts.

Damn, Eiri thought. His face grew warm. He must have said that aloud. “Nothing,” Eiri grumbled. “Look, what're you telling me this for, anyway? This has nothing to do with me. I want nothing to do with that bizarre love triangle.”

Tohma smiled knowingly. “Come now Eiri. You know that's not true,” he teased.

There was silence.

“You know as well as I do that you've had a thing for Shuichi for quite some time now,” Tohma prodded.

Eiri said nothing as the events of one year ago flashed through his mind.

Several months ago, his brother-in-law had attempted to drag him to one of Nittle Grasper’s concerts. Eiri, of course, had refused, more out of principal than anything else. He would much rather curl up with a good book than go deaf at a concert where thousands of screaming, horny teenage girls would be congregating, but as soon as Eiri heard that Bad Luck was to be the opening act, his eyes lit up and he had accepted his brother-in-law’s invitation, almost a little too eagerly. From the moment Eiri laid eyes on the lithe lead singer for the first time in months, even Tohma could tell that Eiri--who was known to be cold, heartless and stoic--was hooked. Though, of course, Eiri denied it every chance he got.

“You're delusional,” Eiri stated coldly as he crushed his cigarette out in the ashtray.

What he never bothered to mention to Tohma, or anyone else for that matter, was that he had been infatuated with Shuichi long before the concert and that if Eiri had not run away with his tail tucked between his legs one year ago next week, it might even be him right now with the little diva on his arm all over the tabloids and not that moron Ryuichi Sakuma. He would never forgive himself for blowing that one chance he had with Shuichi.

“Am I?” Tohma asked sweetly, sitting back in his plush, leather seat. He heard his brother-in-law grumble angrily under his breath. His smile grew.

“Why the hell would I have ‘a thing' for some pint sized pipsqueak who couldn't find his way out of a paper bag? Okay, grant you, he is cute and has one of the most amazing voices I've ever heard, but his lyrics suck and just watching him makes me tir-” Too late, he realized he said something he should not have. He cursed as he heard Tohma's snicker.

“Eiri-”

A sudden chime swept through the apartment, causing Eiri’s heart to leap out of his chest and into his mouth. Cursing his own jumpiness, he tried to calm his racing heart and standing up, pushed away from his desk. “Look, I gotta go.” Without waiting for a reply, Eiri snapped his phone shut. He had never before been so glad to hear the doorbell.

Tohma sputtered. Sighing heavily, he snapped his phone shut and placed it in the cup holder between the seats. Settling back, he stared out through the windshield at the apartment complex, unsure what to do.

 

* * *

 

**Uesugi Residence -- Ichigaya Park Axis -- Tokyo, Japan**

Eiri walked through his apartment to the front door. With a hand on the doorknob, he looked through the peephole and sighed long and heavy. He would probably regret this. He slid the chain back, turned the lock--the tumblers fell with loud thuds--and swung the door open. “What're you doing here, Tatsuha?” Eiri demanded of his younger brother.

Tatsuha stepped inside, fingering his hair with his free hand while the other one held his motorcycle helmet. “Aw, come on, bro. Can't I just come over to say ‘hi' once in a while?”

Eiri slammed the door behind him, smirking when he saw Tatsuha jump. He was not in the mood to deal with his brother right now. “You never stop by just to say ‘hi'.”

Tatsuha chuckled nervously as he stood in the doorway between the front hall and the living room.

Pushing passed his brother, Eiri strode into the living room and flopping onto the couch, reached for his cigarettes, but realized that he left them in his office. If he was going to deal with Tatsuha's shit, then he certainly needed his cigarettes, but he did not feel like going to get them.

Crossing his legs, he draped an arm across the back of the sofa, rested his other hand on his knee, and watched his brother who was still standing in the foyer fiddling with his helmet and shuffling his feet. He smelled of fear.

Eiri's eye twitched and he felt his anger flare up as the conversation he had with Tohma moments before replayed in his head. “What the hell do you want?” he barked.

Tatsuha flinched at his brother's angry tone. He glanced briefly at Eiri before dropping his head. Shuffling around, he spun his helmet in his hands. “Uhm, I, uh…”

Eiri growled, tightening his grip on his knee and gritted his teeth. His fury and resentment bowled him over. “How could you be so stupid? What the fuck where you thinking!” He had the strongest urge to throttle Tatsuha.

Tatsuha’s head snapped up. He gaped at his brother with wide shock filled eyes, dozens of thoughts and emotions raced across his face. “Eiri--You--How did-?”

“I find out?” Eiri finished. “Tohma saw you, you freaking moron!”

Tatsuha paled. “He was…Tohma was…”

“There?” Eiri jumped to his feet and glared furiously at his brother, his hands fisted at his sides.

“And he saw…?”

“Apparently, Shuichi called _his husband_ -” Eiri had the privilege of seeing his little brother flinch. “-several times and because Sakuma is supposed _to be sick_ and _wasn't answering the phone_ , he called Tohma, his boss and Sakuma’s best friend, and asked him to go check on him.”

What little color was left in Tatsuha's face vanished.

“And what did he see when he got there? He saw you and Sakuma in the parking lot making out! The whole bloody country probably saw you!”

“Oh, god,” Tatsuha whispered. Feeling suddenly ill, he stumbled into the living room and slumped down onto the sofa.

“How stupid are you? Sakuma is a celebrity! There are photographers and paparazzi following him night and day! They stake out his condominium! Do you have any idea what's going to be on the front page of every paper tomorrow morning?”

Tatsuha slumped forward and buried his face in his hands with a groan.

“Do you have any idea what the hell you've done?”

Tatsuha mumbled something into his hands.

Eiri blinked, stunned at what he thought he heard his brother say. Then his anger renewed itself. “What did you just say?” he hissed. He better have heard him wrong.

Tatsuha lifted his head. His eyes were hard and filled with determination. “I said, ‘we love each other'!”

“You what?” Eiri growled.

“I love him and I don't plan on letting him go!”

His anger and rage blinding him, Eiri swallowed the space that separated Tatsuha and him and slapped his brother hard across the face.

Tatsuha's head snapped back with the impact. He stared across the room in shock and surprise. He touched his cheek and hissed as pain flashed through him.

When Eiri pulled his hand back, it was red and stung. “Do you have any idea what the hell you are doing?” he hissed. “You're having an affair with a married man!”

Tatsuha jumped to his feet. He fisted his hands and glared at his brother. “I don't care! I love him! I will do whatever it takes to be with him! Besides,” he added, “not like this's the first time!” As soon as if left his mouth, he realized he said too much.

Eiri’s eyes shot open then hardened as things began to fall into place. “Get out,” he hissed. “Get out now before I kill you. Now!”

One look at his brother's face and Tatsuha knew it was not an idle threat.

Eiri watched as his brother scrambled across the room towards the front door like a serial killer was on his tail. He fumbled with the door before finally flinging it open after what seemed like forever. The younger Uesugi male rushed out of the apartment, vanishing from Eiri's view.

Damn Tatsuha! What was his brother thinking?

 

* * *

 

**NG Productions -- Tokyo, Japan**

Tohma was staring into his computer screen blankly when his cellphone rang. The familiar tones echoed through the still office building, startling him back to the present. Picking it up, he saw a familiar number displayed.

“Yes, Eiri,” he said smoothly. His eyes widened as he listened to his brother-in-law. Sighing, Tohma leaned back in the chair and rubbed his aching eyes. “Thank you, Eiri…No, I haven't. Truthfully, I have no idea what to tell him…” He sighed again. “Yes, but would you believe me if I told you I saw your partner with someone else? Let alone it being the same person he was caught with before...You may be right, but there might not have been any pap-” Again, Tohma sighed. He was so tired. “I'll have a talk with Ryu first. Maybe I can persuade him to tell Shuichi himself…And if I can't, well, Ryuichi is my best friend and I support him, no matter what he does, but this time…Yes, Eiri. I will.” A huge grin chased away the shadows from Tohma's face. “…And tell me, Eiri, why're you so worried about Mr. Shindou all of a sudden? Eiri? Eiri.” He pulled his phone from his ear and stared at it. His brother-in-law had once again hung up on him. Chuckling, Tohma snapped his phone shut.

Feeling as if he stuck between a rock and a hard place, Tohma pushed away from his desk and walked to the window that overlooked the hustle and bustle of the city.

 

* * *

 

**Shindou-Sakuma Residence – Ichigaya Park Tower -- Tokyo, Japan**

Ryuichi bent down and picked up the photo. The glass was shattered. Carefully, he removed the shards and placed them in the garbage can. Then made his way to the couch. Sitting on the edge of the sofa, he stared at the picture of him and Shuichi.

In the photo, he had an arm draped familiarly around Shuichi’s shoulders and instead of looking into the camera, he was watching the younger man. His eyes were soft and he had a dreamy expression on his face. Shuichi, on the other hand, was grinning like a madman into the camera. His eyes sparkled and his whole face was glowing. Shuichi’s head was resting on Ryuichi’s chest and had his arms around Ryuichi’s waist.

The picture was taken…

It was funny, Ryuichi could not remember when the picture was taken, but it had obviously been “before”.

He traced the image of his lithe lover. The boy's pink dyed newly spiky hair, sparkling lavender eyes and toned dancer's body blurred behind a veil of tears as his pleas from six months ago replayed in his head, _“Shuichi, I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you, but nothing ever happened between us. Nothing! I swear to God! Please, give me another chance, please, Shuichi! Let me prove to you that I love you, that you can trust me. Please! I need you. I love you so much!”_

Ryuichi’s throat felt tight and his chest hurt. His heart ached. Tears flowed freely down his cheeks. He covered his eyes and sobbed silently, his shoulders shaking as he cried.

“I'm so sorry, Shuichi,” he whispered through his tears.

 

* * *

 

**That Night**

With his legs folded underneath him, Ryuichi sat back on the couch with his hands wrapped around a steaming mug of hot cocoa. He brought the cup to his face, inhaled the sweet, chocolaty aroma, and smiled. He sighed before he took a sip, feeling the hot liquid trickle down his throat, but it did little to chase away the coldness that seemed to have taken up permanent residence within his bones. As he leaned forward to set the cup on the coffee table, his eyes caught sight of the photograph of Shuichi and him that had fallen off the wall earlier and his heart gave a painful lurch. Tears stun his eyes. Unable to look at those large, innocent violet eyes smiling at him with love and complete faith, he grabbed the picture and flipped it over. Grabbing a pillow, he hugged it to his chest. Burying his face in the pillow, he sobbed quietly.

 

* * *

 

**Marriott -- Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania -- Same Time**

Hugging his legs to his chest, his heels resting on the edge of the couch, Shuichi leaned his chin on the pillow he was hugging and stared blankly out the window of his suite. He knew he should go downstairs and join the guys for breakfast, but he was not in the mood for company or food right now. The thought of food made him queasy and the idea of being among people was suffocating. All he wanted was to be alone for a while.

With much difficulty, he tore his eyes away from the window and stared at his cellphone lying dormant on the coffee table. He wished it would ring. He willed it to ring, but it remained stubbornly silent. Shuichi felt his soul cry out as the silence stretched on around him. When a picture of Ryuichi flashed through his head, he felt a sharp pain in his chest. Despair enveloped and washed over him. He gasped out a sudden sob as tears stun his eyes, blurring his vision. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tightened his hold on the pillow and scrunched into a tight ball in the corner of the couch. Burying his face in the pillow, he wept silently.

Then as quickly as they came, the angst-filled tears streaming down his face turned into bitterness and hatred. A sudden surge of anger raged through him. Snarling low and dangerously, Shuichi jumped to his feet and whipped the pillow he had been hugging only moments ago across the room with all the strength he could muster. He felt a thrilling rush of satisfaction as the square throw pillow sailed effortlessly across the suite and smacked into the coffee maker. The white plastic machine along with the red-orange silk covered pillow tumbled to the floor. Shuichi’s breath came out in huffing pants as the sound of smashing plastic and shattering glass echoed in the silence of the room.

 

* * *

 

**Shindou-Sakuma Residence – Ichigaya Park Tower -- Tokyo, Japan -- An Hour Later**

Sniffing, Ryuichi brushed his fingers across his wet cheeks as he crossed the living room towards the front door. Another loud pounding echoed through the silence of the apartment. It was almost eleven o'clock at night, who would be coming to visit him so late at night? He was not expecting anyone. He wondered who it could be. Was it Tatsuha? Had he forgotten something? The thought of his young lover made his heart beat rapidly and his pulse race. Butterflies fluttered nervously in his stomach. He stopped before the front door of the condominium and grabbing the hem of his pajama top, dried the last of his tears before sliding back the security chain and turning the dead bolt. His hand on the doorknob, he took a deep breath to calm himself. As much as he would love it to be Tatsuha, he doubted it was. Tatsuha had to work the early shift tomorrow; otherwise, he would have stayed the night.

So, if it was not his favorite bagger, then who could it be? Shuichi was not due back until next week sometime. Besides, he had his own key and he would have called to tell him that he was back. Or, the information that Bad Luck was back in town would have been leaked by someone and it would be all over the news and the internet. No, if Shuichi were back he would know. He felt a stab of pain in his chest when he thought of his husband. He shook off the feeling that was fast becoming all too familiar.

When he opened the door, Ryuichi was startled by whom he saw standing on the other side. “Tohma!”

“Ryuichi.” Tohma kept his voice and face carefully blank as he studied his best friend. That was when he noticed Ryuichi’s damp cheeks.

Ryuichi stepped aside and waved his friend inside. “What's up?” he asked, curiously. When Tohma stepped inside, Ryuichi shut and locked the door behind him. Turning around, he saw his old friend staring at him with a serious expression on his face. That look was never a good thing. “Tohma? What's wrong?”

“We need to talk.”

Ryuichi gulped. Why was he suddenly getting an uneasy feeling?

 

* * *

 

**Uesugi Residence -- Ichigaya Park Axis -- Tokyo, Japan**

Eiri sat staring at his computer screen blankly. His hands lay idle on the keyboard. The words on the screen blurred into splotches of color. He could not remember what it was he just wrote. Something about something having to do with something. He did know he was supposed to be working on his doctoral thesis. Everything else had disappeared behind a red haired singer with bright turquoise eyes that seemed nearly white against his dark olive complexion.

Sighing, he slumped back in the chair and combed his fingers through his hair. Leaning his head against the back of the chair, he stared vacantly at the ceiling.

He wondered, not for the first time, what would have happened had he actually been there in that closet sized apartment when his angelic god woke up after having fallen into a deep exhausted sleep after they made love for several long, sweet hours a year ago. Would he even now be with him as Bad Luck toured North America with several other bands on an anime convention tour? Would he be the one Shuichi held hands with? The one whose arm he clung to? The one to hold him, kiss him and make love to him? The one the Madonna-esque god sang to? The one he wrote songs about? The one the paparazzi caught him with? Would Eiri wake up each morning to find his very own angel sleeping peacefully next to him?

Three months after he fled from the arms of his beloved, he had been invited to a party welcoming Bad Luck and some other band--that had since fizzled into nonexistence before they even were after a particularly acrimonious argument between two of the members--into the NG Productions family. Tohma and Mika had both tried to get him to go to the party, saying it would do him some good for they had been increasingly worried about him. They might not have known what had happened, but they had known something had happened that had sent an already reclusive man even deeper into hiding. Of course, Eiri told them all to go to Hell and had sent his brother Tatsuha in his steed instead.

They say hindsight was twenty-twenty and they would be right. As Eiri looked back on it now, he realized that might have been one of the biggest mistakes of his life. He could not be absolutely certain if that was when it started, but he now knew that having Tatsuha go to that party instead of going himself had been the catalyst for this whole messed up affair.

No matter what the reason may be for his poor lack of judgment, the fact remained that he had abandoned Shuichi a year ago, which in turn caused Shuichi to turn to someone else. So it was partially his fault that the love of his life became involved with a man who could not tell the difference between his ass and a hole in the ground, a man who did not realize he was in Heaven until he was dragged into Hell. It made his heart hurt to think that he was the reason Shuichi was hurting.

Growling, he sat up and shook his head of all thoughts of that lithe, pink haired god. Why was he so fascinated, so fixated by that kid anyway? And why did he care about his love life? He had not even talked to that damn baka in over a year and he was making his life a living hell.

“Damned brat,” he muttered angrily as his fingers flew over the keyboard.

 

* * *

 

**Shindou-Sakuma Residence – Ichigaya Park Tower -- Tokyo, Japan -- An Hour Later**

“I want you to break it off with him,” Tohma told his vocalist without any preamble.

Ryuichi froze mid-step. Fear flashed across his face before he was able to school his face. He swallowed his fright and forced himself to smile at his old friend. He sat down on the opposite L of the couch from Tohma. “'Break it off with' whom?” he asked innocently. He looked at a point to the left of Tohma’s face as his pulse started racing and his heart beat faster. His palms grew sweaty.

“You know whom, Ryuichi.” Tohma was in no mood to play games.

Ryuichi’s mouth was suddenly parched. “I have no idea what you're-”

“Then why can't you look me in the eye?” Tohma snapped.

Ryuichi sighed and hung his head. He should have known he would not be able to hide anything from his best friend. “How long have you known?” he finally asked.

He did not like to admit it but… “An hour,” Tohma admitted truthfully.

Ryuichi chuckled.

To Tohma it sounded a little hysterical. “I saw you in the lobby.”

Ryuichi groaned and buried his face in his hands.

Tohma had a brief urge to inform his friend that if he saw him then it was likely that he had not been the only one. He had been a bit preoccupied being stunned (to say the least) at the time to notice if there had been paparazzi hidden outside the condominium. Seeing Ryuichi was who he was, it would not surprise him if a huge photo of the two illicit lovers were splashed all over the papers and on TV when they woke up in the morning. But it died a quick death. It would serve his friend right if they had been present. “Why, Ryu?”

Ryuichi shook his head. He had been asking himself the same question ever since he allowed the boy to seduce him at that party just about nine months ago. “I don't know why.”

“Do you love him?”

Tears stun Ryuichi's eyes. “Yes,” he whispered, his voice strained.

Anger flared through the keyboardist. “And Shuichi?”

Ryuichi shook his head. “This has nothing to do with him.”

Tohma narrowed his eye and glared at the singer. “'Nothing to do with him'?” he echoed. Had he truly heard Ryuichi right? “How the hell can you say that? It has everything to do with him! Shuichi is your husband! Or did you forget that you were the one who asked him to marry you two months ago? Did you already forget your commitment ceremony from just last month where you asked me to be your Best Man? You’ve been married to Shuichi for a less than two months Ryu and you are gonna just sit there and tell me that your affair with my brother-in-law has nothing to do with Shuichi?”

Tears flowed freely down Ryuichi's face. His heart hurt. His felt nauseous as his emotions warred with one another. “Don't Tohma,” he whispered through his tears.

“Don't what?” Tohma hissed. He was usually able to keep his cool no matter what, but for some reason this time he could not get a handle on his emotions as he listened to Ryuichi spout his nonsense and it was beyond exasperating. “Tell you something you should already know? Either you tell Shuichi about Tatsuha, or I will,” he threatened.

Ryuichi gasped. “But, but-! I-I can't! If I tell him-I don't want to hurt him!”

Tohma stood up. “You should've thought of that before-”

“Tohma, please!”

“I'm sorry, Ryu. I consider Mr. Shindou a friend and I don't want to see him hurt.” The frame flipped upside down in the middle of the table did not escape his vision. “It's either Tatsuha or Shuichi. Either way, you have to tell him.”

 

* * *

 

The day was unseasonably cool. The streets were strangely deserted. A chill breeze blew through the parking lot, blowing a clear plastic wrapper into the street. Tohma wrapped his black wool coat tighter around him and huddled within its warmth as he crossed the parking lot towards his car.

Pulling out his keys from his coat pocket, he fumbled among the various keys and tags for the little black fob and unlocked his car doors. The ching echoed loudly in the silence of the parking lot. He rounded the car to the driver's side as he searched for his car key. He paused besides the car door clutching the key in his hand and reached for the door handle, but paused. He stared blankly at his hand on the door handle. Tohma lifted his head to stare at the apartment his two top vocalists shared at the top of the condominium. He sighed and dropped his head. Ryuichi was his best friend and he loved the guy, but he was not going to cut him any slack on this.

Tohma opened the car door. Lifting his leg into the cab, he lifted his head to take one last look at the apartment. He knew Ryuichi was suffering. He had seen it on his friend’s face, but Tohma did not feel bad for the guy in the least. Ryuichi made his bed and now he had to sleep in it. He just hoped Ryuichi took his advice and talked to Shuichi, before Shuichi found out some other way. He knew from past experience with the couple that if Shuichi found out about Ryuichi's affair from someone other than Ryuichi, it would make things much worse.

 

* * *

 

Sighing heavily, Ryuichi crossed his arms over his chest and leaning against the sliding glass doors, stared blankly out over the city. He could not see Tokyo tower in the distance or the apartment building right across the street. He was oblivious to everything but the ache in his head and the pain in his heart. The clouds disbursed in the night sky, revealing a large full moon. The moonlight reflected on Ryuichi's face, glistening off tears that trickled down his face.

 

* * *

 

**Early Sunday Morning -- Murakami’s Supermarket -- Tokyo, Japan**

The horizon was just beginning to lighten when a truck pulled up in front of the dark supermarket. The driver cut the engine. He stepped out onto the sidewalk and walked around to the back of his truck. Lowering the door, he grabbed several bundles of stacked newspapers and walked up to the store where he stacked them before the door. He walked back to his truck, shut the back door and slid back behind the wheel. He started the engine and pulled into traffic, vanishing down the street as he headed towards his next stop.

 

* * *

 

A man an hour later strolled into the supermarket. It being only six o’clock, only one register was open. There were less than a handful of workers and even fewer customers.

He glanced briefly at the stack of newspapers in passing. The picture on a particular tabloid caught his attention. Working in the entertainment business, he was largely used to these things and only gave trash like this the time of day because he worked in the entertainment business. It was his job to make sure scandals that involved those within the company were handled properly.

Curious, he took the top one out of the stack and glanced over the article. His eyes went wide.

“Oh, crap,” he cursed. Folding the paper under his arm, he grabbed his cellphone and speed dialed his boss's number with his heart pounding as if trying to escape the confines of his chest.

 

* * *

 

**Seguchi Residence -- Koishikikawa Tower Place - Tokyo, Japan**

Tohma stared at the glowing red numbers without really taking them in. Sighing, he flipped onto his back, draped an arm across his brow and glanced up at the ceiling. Dropping his arm, he turned his head to glance at his sleeping wife. She was curled up on her side, her back to him, under mounds of blankets. Only the top of her head was visible.

Suddenly, the silence of the apartment was shattered by an unnaturally loud ringing that caused Tohma's heart to leap out of his chest, though outwardly it appeared not to have had any effect on him. The phone rang again. Not wanting it to wake up his wife, he sat up, tossed back the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Standing up, he reached for the phone on the nightstand, cutting it off mid-ring.

“Hello,” he said quietly.

“Mr. Seguchi? This's Nabeshima, Sir.”

“…You do realize what time it is, Nabeshima.” Tohma glanced at the alarm clock.

“Yes, Sir and I do apologize, but we may have a problem, Sir.”

Tohma raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what problem would we have at six o'clock in the morning?”

“Uhm, well…It has to do with your brother-in-law, Sir.”

No more needed to be said. Tohma's face remained impassive. He knew something like this was going to happen and just hoped that Ryuichi took his advice.

 

* * *

 

**Shindou-Sakuma Residence -- Ichigaya Park Tower -- Tokyo, Japan -- An Hour Later**

The apartment was shrouded in shadow. The shades were closed and the curtains drawn over the windows. The balcony doors were open a crack and a slight breeze crawled into the apartment, rustling the vertical blinds musically.

A quiet hush enveloped the apartment.

Ryuichi huddled under the heavy layer of blankets, hugging his ratty Kumagoro he received from his father the day he was brought home from the hospital thirty-some odd years ago to his chest and blankly stared through tear-blurred eyes at the vacant spot on the bed next to him. A ghostly image of Shuichi materialized before him. A stray tear rolled down his face as the mirage turned over and smiled that sweet, contagious grin, his hair sleep tousled and his face softened with that just awakened expression.

Ryuichi choked back a sob as tears ran down his face.

He betrayed Shuichi and lost his trust. Yet Shuichi had forgiven him for his indiscretion and given him a chance to prove how sorry he was for messing up. Shuichi allowed Ryuichi the opportunity to try to prove himself and earn back his trust and yet here he was blowing his second chance. He did not deserve Shuichi, his love or his trust. He was a liar. He stared into those large, innocent eyes every single day and lied to the love of his life. Why? Why would he willingly betray Shuichi by making the same mistakes that nearly cost him everything once before? Why? Why was he so drawn to Tatsuha Uesugi? What was it about this sixteen-year-old playboy? Why would he throw away everything he had worked so hard for on one boy?

Why?

An image of his forbidden lover flashed through his mind, mingling with that of Shuichi before shoving the image of his husband out of his mind altogether.

Did he truly have feelings for Tatsuha? Or was he so drawn to him because he was forbidden territory? Was it the thrill of doing something he knew he should not be doing? All the narrow escapes? The sneaking around? He was not sure what hurt more. Knowing that he was voluntarily betraying Shuichi and everything they had together or the uncertainty over his true intentions concerning his relationship with Tatsuha.

Ryuichi curled into a tight ball as a fresh wave of tears gushed down his cheeks and a swell of sorrow and guilt rose within him. His Mr. Bear was crushed between his chest and legs.

Just last night, Tatsuha and he had been together right here in this bed, in Shuichi and his bed. He felt so dirty and was so disgusted with himself, but at the same time, he yearned to see his forbidden lover again. Why? Why did he continue doing this? Nothing made any sense anymore.

When he was with Tatsuha, he was all Ryuichi could think about, but after Tatsuha left, the guilt would overwhelm him and he would ask himself what he thought he was doing.

With a sob, Ryuichi held Mr. Bear tightly. The pink rabbit doll was the only solid thing right now. He wept silent, bitter tears as his soul cried out and his heart broke.

He loved Shuichi and wanted to be with him and yet…

The curtains fluttered in the breeze that whispered through the open window above the bed. A shaft of light shone through the heavy blackout curtains, illuminating a bold headline on the floor at the foot of the bed that screamed through the silence and darkness, “ **Ryuichi Sakuma Caught with Underaged Lover** ”.

The sudden ringing of the phone shattered the silence of the apartment. The jingle echoed continuously through the silent, twilight-hidden halls. It had only been a matter of time. Ryuichi huddled even tighter under the sheets and buried his drenched face in the little kimono outfit Shuichi’s younger sister, Maiko, made for his Mr. Bear.

Go away, he thought with a sob as the phone continued to ring insistently.

Then a long, drawn out buzz rang through the apartment followed by a short, sharp rap on the front door. Ryuichi squeezed his eyes shut tight and wished he could just disappear.

“I'm so sorry, Shuichi,” he cried silently.

 

* * *

 

**Seguchi Residence - Koishikikawa Tower Place -- Tokyo, Japan**

With a sigh, Tohma pulled the phone from his ear and pressed the talk button, ending the call mid-ring. Spinning around, he set the phone back in its cradle on the small table behind the couch. Turning back around, he sighed heavily and dropped his head against the top of the couch. He stared blankly at the ceiling, noticing a crack racing across the ceiling from one end of the room to the other.

“I wonder how that happened?” he asked himself.

A noise drew Tohma's attention. Lifting his head, he blinked, bringing his mind back into focus and watched as Mika, his wife, stepped into the living room. Mika had brushed her long brown hair and tied it back into a neat ponytail at the nape of her neck. Her flawless face was made up and looked perfect even though it was only a little past seven in the morning. Her deep red silk nightgown was hidden underneath a black floor length silk robe tied securely around her waist.

She caught sight of her husband on the couch and frowned deeply as she took in his pale complexion and the dark circles under his eyes. She crossed her arms over her chest and scowled at him. “You never came to bed last night,” she accused.

Tohma smirked apologetically. “Actually, I did, but I couldn't sleep,” he confessed. He had been up all night thinking about Ryuichi, Shuichi and Tatsuha.

Mika sighed and dropped her arms. Rounding the coffee table, she sat down on the edge of the sofa, folded her legs besides her, and clasped her hands in her lap. Her face was lined with worry and her voice was laced with concern as she said, “You can't keep doing this, Tohma. You'll only make yourself sick.”

With a smile at his wife's concern, Tohma shook his head and reached over to pat her hand. “There's no need to worry, Mika. I'll be fine.”

Mika was not convinced. Not only was he the keyboardist for one of Japan’s hottest rock bands, but he was also one of the most sought after producers and not to mention, he had a company to run. Tohma could not afford to worry about that sordid love triangle. She, on the other hand, was furious with her brother and Ryuichi. What were those two thinking? The next time she saw her brother, she was going to make sure she told him a thing or three. “Toh-”

Tohma leaned over and grabbed a magazine off the coffee table.

“What's that?”

In answer, Tohma tossed the magazine to her.

Mika caught it in midair and glanced at her husband in confusion. He only stared blankly back at her. Sighing, she flipped the magazine over and around and realized it was a tabloid magazine. She sighed in disgust. “Get the shit out of here,” she demanded angrily, holding it away from her.

Tohma pushed the magazine back in her hands. “Read it.” His tone left no room for argument.

Resigning herself, Mika glanced over the cover. There was something about some actress being secretly engaged to her boyfriend. A blown up section of the photograph showed the supposed diamond engagement ring that was bigger than her massive breasts. Then there was a headshot of a well-known anchorman who had recently undergone gastric bypass surgery and lost over one hundred pounds, but according to the tabloid, the reporter lost that weight in another manner, something about “the Devil”. What was it with this stuff? Tabloids should be against the law.

“Tohma-!”

Tohma reached over and pointed to another photograph on the cover with a manicured nail.

Mika followed his finger and blinked. At first, she did not understand what it was she was looking at. She then realized it was a grainy photograph of two men kissing passionately in the well-lit lobby of a building that looked oddly familiar. The third pass over the picture, she recognized the smaller man with the shoulder length green dyed hair facing the camera. It was Ryuichi. Next, she realized that the taller man who had his tongue down Ryuichi's throat was not Shuichi Shindou, but was none other than Tatsuha Uesugi, her baby brother. She knew that wax teased mop of jet-black hair and leather jacket anywhere.

Sighing in revulsion, Mika tossed the tabloid magazine on the table carelessly and watched it slide across the slick surface to hang precariously on the lip of the table. She had been hoping Tohma had been mistaken about what he saw yesterday when he went over to check on Ryuichi for Shuichi, but the photograph was irrefutable proof that he had not been. “Dammit! What in the world are those two thinking!”

Tohma wished he had an answer to that question himself.

Mika sighed. “Now what?”

“Now?”

She nodded.

“Now, nothing.”

Mika's eyes widened in shock and surprise. “Nothing? Tohma, is that-?”

Tohma shook his head. “I did what I could. The rest is up to him.”

Mika nodded sadly. It was for the best, but she could not help but feel sorry for Shuichi.

“I really hope Ryuichi took my advice.” Otherwise, things are going to get a little messy.

“Do you think he did?”

Tohma shrugged. “I'm not sure, but knowing Ryu, I doubt it.”

She hated to say this, but… “He gets what he deserves then.”

Tohma could not help but agree. He loved his friend, but there came a point when he had to step back and let things be, as much as it pained him to do so.

 

* * *

 

**Sunday Afternoon -- Uesugi Residence -- Ichigaya Park Axis**

Irate, Eiri chucked the offending piece of filth across the room. The magazine jetted over the desk and hit the opposite wall with a solid thunk before falling to the floor with a muffled slap. He gritted his teeth and fisted his hands.

Damn Sakuma and his brother to hell!

Shuichi was the best thing that ever happened to Ryuichi Sakuma and that brainless idiot had to throw it all away for some sixteen-year-old pervert who Eiri had the disgust of admitting was his brother!

And Tatsuha! His idiotic brother did not care that he was having an affair with a married man.

Ryuichi and Tatsuha better hope and pray he does not see them anytime in the near future because Eiri vowed to rip their balls off and shove them up their asses the next time he saw them!

Turning towards his desk, Eiri reached across the desktop for his laptop and pulled it towards him. Spinning it around, he lifted the screen with so much force; he nearly tore it off and booted the system. Gritting his teeth, Eiri waited impatiently, his anger raging within him. Gripping the edge of the desk, he stared at the computer screen, quietly seething.

Enough was enough. This ended now!

He was met with large, smiling eyes and a wide toothy grin once his desktop screen popped up. Suddenly his anger evaporated. His face softening instantly, he reached out and traced his secret red haired love's lush lips.

With a sudden look of determination, Eiri hardened his expression and logged into the internet. This was something he should have done a long time ago.

 

* * *

 

**Arena -- Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania -- Same Time**

The arena was vibrating with the loud cheers and excitement of the tens of thousands of fans packed into the venue to hear the bands scheduled to play at this the conclusion to the anime convention. The heavy thrumming beat from ASK, the current band on stage, shook the building despite the thick walls muffling the sound.

ASK had only one hit off their debut album, which had been featured in some movie about dueling cheerleading squads. They had some songs featured in a new racing game that was set for release this Christmas, which was receiving a lot of hype. There was also some talk about the band lending a couple songs for an anime that was in development based on the game. After the convention tour ended, ASK planned to head back into the studio to start work on their follow up album. ASK had the talent and the potential to be big, but Taki--the lead singer--was not the easiest person to get along with. In fact, he tended to get under just about everyone's skin.

While it was chaos in the arena, backstage was a madhouse. The members of the various bands and their managers, producers, technical crew and various other members of their entourage crowded the backstage area. Everybody seemed to be heading in all directions at once while trying to accomplish a million and one things at the same time.

Not part of that catastrophe waiting to happen was Shuichi. As Bad Luck was scheduled to take the stage after ASK, he was in the band’s dressing room getting ready. Or he was supposed to be. At the moment, all he was doing was staring at his reflection in the mirror.

His hair, now a dark burgundy, was slicked back into a tight ponytail at the nape of his neck. Under a tan trench coat, wardrobe had dressed him in a white button down dress shirt with a wide, black tie and black dress slacks. For that night’s performance, he was going bare foot--the other night he’d worn heeled boots and they’d given him blisters. Wardrobe had also produced elbow length fingerless leather gloves with straps along their entire length. On top of his head, held securely by bobby pins was a black fedora. There had been a feather in it, but Suguru had not liked it so it had been taken out.

The makeup artist had done a magnificent job as usual. His usually olive complexion had been bronzed to sun kissed perfection without the harmful side effects. The eye makeup made his now red-hazel eyes pop and gave him a mysterious, exotic ambience. The lip-gloss and liner made his lips appear fuller and lusher than they already were without it going too overboard. Even the blusher gave him the appearance of those high sculpted cheekbones. Overall, he looked nothing like the nineteen-year-old who had arrived here at the break of dawn this morning.

When a hand clamped down on his shoulder unexpectedly, Shuichi nearly jumped out of his chair. His heart racing, he lifted his head and met a smirking Hiro. “Jeeze,” he breathed. “Don't do that!”

“Sorry,” Hiro chuckled.

Shuichi took in his best friend’s appearance.

Hiro was decked out in black leather pants, a sleeveless black zip-up tank lying open over a white stretch Tee. Several rows of black beads encircled his neck and hung loosely down his chest. His long reddish brown hair had been swept to the side and hair sprayed in place. Only enough makeup to make him not appear deathly under the lights had been applied.

“You look good.”

Hiro bowed. “Thank you. You, on the other hand, look amazing!”

Shuichi grinned widely at the compliment, but the smile did not reach his eyes.

Hiro crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the makeup counter that looked like the makeup aisle at the drugstore had exploded. “Okay, what's wrong?”

“Huh?”

“Don't give me that,” Hiro scolded. “I've known you your entire life and I can tell when something's bothering you.” He paused, waiting. “So? What is it?”

Shuichi sighed heavily and tore his gaze away from his best friend’s penetrating stare. He looked into the mirror at a reflection he could not recognize and felt nothing. He felt empty inside.

Yesterday, his worry turned into blind fury and in his rant, he had destroyed his hotel suite. He was glad that Claude “K” Winchester, their other manager, was not on tour with them. He would have had his head! Daisuke, on the other hand had taken it all in stride and handled the situation calmly and smoothly. As Daisuke was speaking with the hotel manager and trying to straighten things out with him, Shuichi's anger had melted and vanished until he felt nothing at all. And now, he just did not care either way anymore.

Shuichi glanced down at the bulge under his glove where his ring was and felt a pain of guilt that he did not feel anything. It was killing him to realize that he could care less if Ryuichi was alive or dead. It did not matter if his husband was as sick as a dog or lying dead or broken in a gutter somewhere. It just did not matter. Was that bad?

“Shu?”

Shuichi's heart leapt out of his chest at his friend's sudden voice. He blinked in confusion as he tried to remember what it was that Hiro had asked him. Before he could even think of a reply, the dressing room door opened and Daisuke walked in with Suguru, Ethan and Kevin behind him. Thunderous applause and loud, deafening cheers could be heard clearly.

“ASK just finished their set,” Daisuke informed them unnecessarily. “You’re on.”

“Thanks,” Hiro said.

Shuichi checked out his keyboardist.

Suguru was dressed similar to Hiro. Only his sleeveless over-shirt was white and his tank top was black. Unlike Hiro, Suguru's shirt was zipped up and instead of leather pants, the Tohma Seguchi protégé had on a pair of dark blue jeans. This was the first time anyone had seen him in jeans and everyone admitted he looked good in them. They made him look like the teenager he was and not the old fart he pretended to be. Like Hiro, Suguru had on a necklace, but instead of beads, the keyboardist was wearing a large black onyx teardrop that hung down his chest to his belly. His electric blue dyed hair had been gelled into spikes and like Hiro; he had on just enough makeup to appear lively under the stages lights.

“Looking good, Fujisaki.”

“Told you,” Ethan shoved his friend playfully.

Ethan, the twenty-one year old drummer for Bad Luck, had his dark brown, nearly black hair trimmed and layered so that it tickled the collar of his silver studded white jacket that hung down around his hips where a matching belt hung loosely around white jeans. A diamond stud sparkled in his left ear. A silver medallion the size of a silver dollar glistened in the light on his white button down shirt. The black eyeliner made his dark yellow-green eyes pop.

The keyboardist pouted dramatically to cover the fact that he was blushing. “Well, I hate it.”

“Oh, come one,. You look great! What's not to like about it?” Hiro asked the uptight keyboardist.

“Everything! For one I look like, like-!”

“A rock star?” Kevin supplied.

Kevin, the twenty-one year old bassist for the band, like his cousin, had been hired after applying to a help wanted ad in the newspaper several years ago. His outfit was similar to Ethan’s except his was black. His reddish-blond hair had a shaggy appearance to it. His dark blue eyes seemed almost black.

Suguru’s blush deepened.

The others laughed.

Daisuke clapped his hands, gaining everyone's attention. “Alright guys! Whether you like your outfits or not, you guys get out there and show these people how it’s done!”

Bad Luck cheered loudly.

Grinning like a mad man, Shuichi felt a twiddle of butterflies in his stomach as he always did before a performance, but over that was a surge of energy and excitement. He forgot about Ryuichi and his concern over his lack of concern for the man. He forgot everything but what an awesome show he was about to put on.

 

**…To Be Continued…**


	3. The Race to Shuichi

**Chapter 3: The Race to Shuichi**

**Arena -- Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania -- An Hour Later**

The door to the dressing room clicked open and a strikingly handsome man stuck his head inside.

Hiro's hands stilled. Raising his head, he parted the towel he was using to dry his hair like a curtain and studied Bad Luck's manager, Daisuke Miki, as the man searched the room with a frown.

Daisuke was just as tall as Hiro, but more toothpick thin than Shuichi. It was almost inhuman how skinny the man was. When he turned sideways, he vanished. His colored platinum blond hair fell in lush waves down past his shoulders and instead of wearing glasses, he wore supernatural ice blue colored contacts. The thirty-something manager always wore expensive designer suits, but rarely a tie. He also never wore socks unless it was absolutely necessary.

“What's up?” Hiro questioned

Daisuke's eyes flitted to the guitarist. “Shuichi's not here?” He was starting to get worried. “I can't find him and the van's here.”

“No,” now that Hiro thought about it, “I haven't seen him since the concert ended.” He frowned in contemplation

“Damn,” Daisuke muttered. “Where could that boy have run off to?”

Hiro shrugged as he returned to drying his hair. He really was not too worried about his friend. “I'm sure he's around here somewhere. He probably found a quiet corner and fell asleep. He was looking kinda pale by the end of the show.”

Daisuke gnawed his bottom lip. “Yeah, I suppose.”

“What're you talking about?” asked a sudden voice from behind Hiro.

Hiro looked over his shoulder and spied the youngest member of the band. Suguru was dressed in a white undershirt and a pair of green boxer shorts. His hair was damp and he had a towel draped around his shoulders. Hiro stepped aside and allowed the young keyboardist to enter the dressing room. “We can't find Shu. You haven't seen him have you?”

“Yeah, I'm getting a little worried,” Daisuke said.

“Why? He was fine when I saw him,” Suguru said as he walked across the room towards his dressing area.

Hiro and Daisuke snapped to attention.

“You saw him?”

“Where?”

“Why didn't you say so?”

Suguru looked from one man to the other, blinking in confusion. “I saw him in the Green Room,” he said matter-of-factly. What were they so worked up about?

“The Green Room?” Daisuke repeated.

“Yeah,” Suguru drawled slowly.

“Thanks.” With a nod, Daisuke vanished out into the hall, closing the door behind him.

Suguru blinked, still confused. “What was that all about?” he asked, pulling out his jeans.

“Van's here,” Hiro said as he tossed his towel on the couch.

Suguru cried out, “What!” Why the hell didn't you say so?” Cursing, he jumped into his tan khakis and hopped up and down as he tried to pull them up. In his haste, the young keyboardist stepped on the hem of his pants. With a sudden cry, he lost his balance. Flailing his arms in perfect imitation of a windmill, Suguru toppled over, banging his chin and smashing his nose on the floor of the dressing room.

At the commotion, Hiro--in the midst of pulling a loose white t-shirt over his head--glanced curiously over his shoulder. At the sight of his friend and fellow band mate splayed out flat on the floor, his pants around his ankles, he burst out laughing.

Suguru raised his head and threw Hiro an evil look. “Not funny,” he snapped in annoyance, his face burning in embarrassment.

Hiro tried in vain to choke back his laughter. “Yo, Ethan! Kevin,” he called loudly over the thunderous roar of the shower as he watched Suguru struggle to his feet.

“Yeah?” Ethan shouted back.

“Van’s here!”

“Dammit,” Kevin cried.

“Son of a bitch,” Ethan cursed.

For as much of a primadonna as Shuichi could be, sometimes Ethan and Kevin could be even pricklier about their appearance.

He watched in growing amusement as like a python subduing its prey, Suguru’s slacks become entangled in his legs. Hiro threw his head and roared with laughter as with a yelp, the young keyboardist fell forward, smacking his face once more against the floor.

 

* * *

 

Daisuke had not thought to look for Shuichi in the Green Room. It should have been the first place he looked after the hellish month Shuichi has had; it made sense for the singer to be hiding out there.

Soundproof, the Green Room was the perfect place for entertainers to relax and unwind after a performance. It was also where they went before they went on so they could clear their minds and gear up for their act.

Hiro was right. By the end of the second encore, Shuichi had looked somewhat pale. Shuichi had not looked good at all.

Two other bands had gone on before Bad Luck. Both had been well liked and received, but Bad Luck had stolen the show once again. They did several encores, making their performance twice as long as usual. With Bad Luck doing a concert every other day and Shuichi’s schedule jam packed with interviews, personal appearances, autograph sessions and photo shoots the rest of the time, coupled with all the stress of that no good husband of his, Daisuke could not blame Shuichi for wanting to disappear for a little bit.

Daisuke turned the corner, deep in thought, and thus was not looking where he was going. As a consequence, he ended up running into someone. Cursing, he stumbled backwards, trying to regain his composure and looked up to see Shinichiro Mizuta, Shuichi's personal assistant and translator for the anime convention tour. Shinichiro was a quiet, mousey man, but excelled at his job and kept Shuichi on time and on schedule. It was a wonder nobody thought of this before. Shinichiro was a little taller than Shuichi and about a year older. His style was having an identity crisis at the moment; he was half-gothic and half punk. Neither matched his genius IQ, but as long as he did his job, Daisuke could care less.

Rubbing his head, Shinichiro was muttering, “Ow!” under his breath.

“Mr. Mizuta, are you alright?” Daisuke asked.

Shinichiro's chocolate brown eyes popped open, gasping. “I'm so sorry, Mr. Miki, sir,” the young man apologized bowing, repeatedly. “I was not watching where I was going!”

Daisuke waved the apology aside. “Don't worry about it.” The boy was a riot. He acted as if every wrong move was a death sentence, but then again, looking at who Bad Luck's manager was, he was not so surprised at Shinichiro's behavior.

“Yes, sir,” Shinichiro said with a final bow.

“Say, Mr. Mizuta.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You haven't seen Shuichi have you?”

“Mr. Shindou?”

“Yeah, the van's here to take the guys back to the hotel and I can't seem to find him.”

“Oh, well, he's in the Green Room.”

Daisuke nodded. “Alright. Thanks.” So, Shuichi was there.

“Sir,” Shinichiro nodded. With a bow, he stepped around Daisuke and walked briskly down the hall like his pants were on fire.

Daisuke watched him vanish around a corner in amusement. That boy could speak to hundreds of people as he translated what Shuichi was saying from Japanese into English, but when it came to the “higher authorities”, he freaked out. Go figure.

Chuckling, he picked his way through the bustling halls of the backstage area at the arena until he found himself outside the closed Green Room door and listened carefully. He could not hear anything from within. Reaching for the doorknob, he found the door unlocked. Turning the knob slowly, he silently pushed it open and peered inside. The lights were off, but a small display light in the far corner of the room was casting alternating colored light onto the walls and ceiling.

He had no idea why it was called a Green Room when the only things green in it were the few fake plants. The floor was carpeted in a light dusty rose that your feet just sank right into. The couches were like giant balls of cotton; they were so soft and comfortable that once you sat down, it was very hard to get back up. The walls were soft camel with framed autographed photos and other memorabilia from those that had passed through the theater in years passed.

As his eyes roamed over the room, they landed on his singer curled up on one of the couches, his mouth slightly ajar and an arm flung over the side of the couch. A smile flittered over Daisuke’s lips as he took in the soft, peaceful expression on the man’s sleeping face. Shuichi’s chest rose and fell slowly. Soft, heavy breathing filled the quiet room. He looked like a child when he was sleeping, as if he had no cares in the world. All the stress and turmoil the singer put up with on a daily basis vanished when he closed his eyes.

He looked like an angel.

Daisuke studied the sleeping singer. It was clear he had come straight here from the stage. He was still wearing the outfit he had changed into for the encore, which consisted of black Capri's with zippers, pockets and straps covering every inch, two spiked belts, suspenders hanging around his hips and a black sleeveless shirt, his clunky knee high boots and the remnants of his makeup and body glitter.

Shoving the door open a little more, Daisuke crossed the room towards him, his footsteps muffled by the carpet. As he drew closer, his smile folded into a frown. He stopped besides the couch and bending over, reached out to brush aside a lock of the singer's hair.

“Oh, Shuichi,” Daisuke whispered. He felt his heart breaking.

Where Shuichi looked angelic when he was sleeping, on closer inspection, this angel was pale and drawn. There were dark circles and bags under his eyes. Tiny paths that had been cut into the thick layers of makeup on his face were indications that Shuichi had been crying.

Straightening, he took a step back.

“Wha-?”

He lifted his foot and stepped to the side as he felt something small and hard underneath his foot. Glancing down, he squinted through the darkness and saw something glinting in the dim light. Curious, he bent over and picked it up. It was a man's silver wedding band. Daisuke glanced from the plain band to Shuichi and then to the singer’s cupped hand hanging over the edge of the sofa. Was it Shuichi‘s wedding ring? If it was, then why was it on the floor? As he fingered the smooth band, he frowned. Holding the ring up, he squinted through the darkness, trying to see the inside of the band, but it was too dark to see clearly. He crossed the room to the only source of light. Again, he held the ring out and peered inside.

“'Forever Yours, Forever Mine',” he read aloud.

Daisuke turned and glanced at his singer then at the ring in his open hand. It was Shuichi’s wedding ring. He fisted his hand around the band, feeling it bite into his palm. He hated knowing that Shuichi was suffering. He wished he could do something to help him, but he was not sure if there was anything he could do.

This was his entire fault.

Daisuke crouched by Shuichi's head as the younger man slept the sleep of the dead. A gentle smile softened his features as he watched his singer snore softly. Reaching out a hand tentatively, he lightly brushed a lock of dark burgundy hair back behind Shuichi's ear. Drawing his hand away, he ran his knuckles gently across Shuichi's damp cheek.

As he continued to watch Shuichi sleep peacefully, his chest rising and falling gently, he could not help but think how beautiful Shuichi was, despite his gothic attire, the sweat drying on his olive complexion, him smelling like BO, the makeup aisle on his face and the exhaustion lining his perfect, angelic face. Daisuke felt his pulse start racing and a blush flushed across his face as he continued to watch the singer sleep. Daisuke licked suddenly dry lips. Shuichi really was incredibly beautiful.

Sighing heavily, he sat back.

That was why his guilt was killing him. If it were not for him, then none of this would be happening because he was the one who had introduced Ryuichi to Tatsuha. Not knowing it would become as major a scandal as it has was not an excuse because the fact remained that Shuichi was suffering because of him.

Daisuke was not stupid. He knew why Ryuichi Sakuma had not returned any of his husband’s phone calls. He knew why Tohma Seguchi had not called Shuichi back. All you had to do was look at Ryuichi's history and it did not take a genius to figure out what was going on. Daisuke was not sure who else suspected the relapse--for Daisuke was positive there was one--but as he gazed from the ring to Shuichi’s pale, drawn, tear streaked face and thought back to the fit Shuichi had at the hotel yesterday, he realized guiltily that he had his answer.

Shuichi’s breathing rhythm changed. Moments later, the singer flipped onto his back and rubbed his eyes with his knuckles with a yawn. As Shuichi stretched, his lithe body elongating, his shirt rode up, revealing his flat, tiny waist.

Daisuke's breathing hitched at the sight. He tore his gaze away from the singer with much difficulty as a deep blush colored his cheeks.

Sighing, Shuichi settled back onto the couch, running his fingers under his eyes, remembering too late that he was still wearing makeup. He glanced at his fingers, now smeared black. Rubbing his fingers together, he glanced up and yelped.

“Wakey, wakey, Sleeping Beauty,” Daisuke chuckled with a wide smile.

Exhaling noisily, Shuichi glared at Daisuke as he tired to slow his racing heart. With a hand over his racing heart, he pushed himself up and swung his legs over the side of the couch. Yawning again, he scrubbed his hands over his face, not caring if he spoiled his already messed up makeup. When he dropped his hands and opened his eyes, he blinked and pulled his head back with a frown. He lifted his eyes from the band lying on Daisuke's hand to look at Daisuke. “What's this?”

“Your ring.”

“My…? Oh.” Shuichi’s face dropped.

Daisuke studied him closely. “It was on the floor.”

“Thanks,” the singer mumbled. Reaching out, he snatched the ring back and stared blankly at it as it lay in his hand.

“Are you okay?” Daisuke asked cautiously.

“Yeah,” Shuichi told him distractedly. Closing his hand over the wedding band, he said unconvincingly, “Fine.”

 

* * *

 

**Sunday Afternoon -- Seguchi Residence -- Koishikawa Tower Place -- Tokyo, Japan**

Tohma was standing before the open sliding glass doors, staring out over the balcony at the city when the sudden ringing of the phone shattered the stillness of the apartment.

Blinking, he stared down at the mug in his hands. It took him several seconds to remember that he made himself some coffee earlier.

Sighing, he turned away from the breathtaking view of the city and walked around the dining room table and into the kitchen. Setting the mug of untouched coffee that had long since gone cold on the table, he grabbed the phone off the wall, cutting it off mid-ring.

A voice snapped abrasively in his ear, “Give me Sakuma's number.”

Tohma blinked. Well, he thought. “Hello to you too, Eiri.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Do you have it or not?” Eiri snapped in annoyance.

Tohma sighed. “Eiri,” he scolded sadly. “Can't I even get a, ‘Hello? How are you?' out of you?”

Eiri snorted.

“Fine. Fine! After everything I've done for you.”

In his black Mercedes Benz waiting impatiently for the light to turn green, Eiri felt his eye twitch and gritted his teeth in irritation. He had no idea why they even bothered to throw him a guilt trip. It never worked. It never had and it never will. All they ever managed to accomplish was to make him even more ticked off than he already was. If he did not desperately need that bastard's number, he would hang up on his irritating brother-in-law. “Just give me the damn number,” he barked.

Tohma raised an eyebrow at the other man's tone. When he heard a car horn wail loud and long in the background, he squinted with a frown. His brow was furrowed in contemplation. “Eiri? Where are you?”

“On the way to the airport if you must know,” came the reply.

Tohma did not think his brother-in-law had any special out of town appearances scheduled or anything. He would know if Eiri did. “The airport? Where are you going?”

Eiri sighed heavily, pressing a finger to his temple at the threatening headache.

“Come on, Eiri-kun. It would not hurt for you to just tell me, would it?” Tohma whittled

Yes, Eiri thought, it would actually. “Fine,” he said instead. “I'll tell you only if you give me Sakuma's number.”

Tohma had a nagging feeling he should not agree to the exchange. “Deal,” he said with a sigh. Against his better judgment, he rattled off Ryuichi's home number. “Now, why are you going to the airport?”

Eiri smirked as he had the fleeting thought to just hang up without fulfilling his end of their agreement, but decided against it. “I'm flying out to Toronto.”

Tohma blinked. “Toronto? What's in-?” His eyes widened. He tightened his grip on the phone. “Eiri Uesugi! You are not-!”

“I am,” Eiri answered calmly as he turned into the busy airport.

“Eiri.” Tohma had a bad feeling about this.

“Tohma.”

“What are you going to do in Toronto?” Tohma asked, even thought he already had a sinking feeling he already knew. Tohma heard the unmistakable sounds of the airport in the background. There was a female voice echoing loudly over what had to be a loud speaker, a crowd of voices all speaking at once and over each other and the roar of an airplane. He could not tell if it was taking off or landing. “Eiri?”

“I'm going to do something I should have done a year ago,” Eiri finally answered.

 

* * *

 

**Shindou-Sakuma Residence -- Ichigaya Park Tower -- Tokyo, Japan**

Ryuichi pressed the tab and the near scolding needle-like spray that had been raining down upon him vanished, being directed instead to the tap. He turned the hot and cold-water dials and the roar of water was silenced. The resulting quiet was deafening. Pulling aside the curtain, he stepped onto the towel he’d set on the floor earlier. Steam had filled the bathroom, fogging the mirror above the sink and making it a little suffocating in the bathroom. Reaching for a towel on the shelf, he started to rub himself dry.

The heavy silence of the condominium was shattered by the sudden ringing of the phone. Ryuichi stopped what he was doing and listened as the rings echoed shrilly through the quiet halls. The phone had been ringing off the hook all morning and still, he had no desire to answer it, so he ignored it just as he has been doing. As he was tying the towel securely around his waist, the answering machine clicked on and a familiar voice filled the apartment. His heart leapt. Ryuichi threw open the bathroom door and raced down the hall to the phone.

“Ryu, honey, I am so sorry. I know you wanted to keep our relationship quiet, but…I guess we took one too many risks, huh?” Tatsuha’s nervous laughter filled the condominium. “But this might all be for the best, ya know?” It sounded like the younger man was pleading for Ryuichi to agree with him. “I mean, you know I love you and I hate having to sneak around. They say everything happens for a reason, right? So, please, give me a call. Please, Ryu. I love you and I do not want to lose you. I'm sure we can work something out.”

Ryuichi leaned heavily against the doorframe. “Tatsuha.”

“Ryu? Honey?”

His chest tight, Ryuichi hung his head.

“Please call me,” Tatsuha pleaded.

Ryuichi sighed and sagged against the doorframe, exhaling deeply. Banging his head against the doorjamb, he stared blankly into space.

This sucked. This sucked big time.

Ryuichi wished this were someone’s idea of a sick joke, or a nightmare he couldn’t wake up from. If Shuichi somehow got hold of those photos, if Shuichi somehow found out that he had been unfaithful to him all of this time, and with the same guy Shuichi caught him with before he was able to talk to Shuichi himself…Ryuichi did not even want to think about the consequences.

Ryuichi fisted a hand and slammed it against the wall, putting all his anger, pent up frustration and indecision behind it. He didn’t register the pain and the tingling sensation that traveled down his arm. He loved Shuichi. He loved him with all his heart and wanted it to work out with him, but for some reason when he was with Tatsuha, rationale and logic jumped ship. The little devil on his shoulder managed to persuade him to leave his morals at the door. He hated it! He hated that Tatsuha made him so weak.

The ringing of the phone jerked him back to the present. Lifting his head, he stared at the phone blankly. Again, he did not feel the urge to answer it. Instead, he felt nauseous.

Pushing away from the wall, he turned and started towards the bedroom just as the answering machine clicked on once again. He would have ignored it, as he had been doing all morning, but the sound of a voice that sounded oddly like Tatsuha's filled the condominium. He stopped in the threshold of his bedroom and listened curiously, as the man's voice filled the apartment.

“Sakuma.”

Ryuichi jumped, feeling a chill race down his spine. He gripped the doorframe tightly, whether it was out of fear or something else entirely, he was not sure. What he did know was that the man's angry voice that was echoing through the empty halls, reverberating off the walls, really did sound an awful lot like Tatsuha, on the surface at least. But on closer inspection, though, this man was angrier and colder, much colder than his forbidden lover ever could be. So who then was this guy? And what did he want with him?

“I know you're there,” the man hissed, “so, listen and listen well.” The man’s voice had dropped to an icy whisper. “You sicken me! You disgusting, filthy whore!”

Ryuichi gasped, his eyes gone wide in shock and his mouth slack jawed. He dropped his hands to his side and stepped back out into the hallway. What the hell? Who was this guy?

The photograph of Tatsuha and him from the tabloid paper flashed through his head. He groaned and covered his face with his hands. Great, just great, he thought as he scrubbed his hands over his face. This was all he needed. Whoever this man was, was obviously a huge fan of Shuichi's. The guy must have seen the photograph of Tatsuha and him, but then again, who hasn’t seen it by now? Wasn’t this just peachy?

“Shuichi was the best thing that ever happened to you! Do you know how many people would love to be in your shoes?”

Ryuichi dropped his hands and lifted his head to stare down the hall blankly, sighing.

Wait a minute! How did this guy get his number? It was unlisted and only friends and family had it. He felt a flash of fear.

“To call him theirs? To be able to hold him, kiss him, go to sleep with him in your arms every night and wake in the morning to see him sleeping peacefully like the angel that he is besides you?”

Ryuichi was brought out of his thoughts by the soft tenderness in the man's voice. He clenched his hands tightly and gritted his teeth. A flare of anger flashed through him as he thought of someone else touching his husband. How dare this man? Who did this guy think he was?

“You had it all,” the man screamed. “And what did you do? You threw it away! And for what? A lecher!”

Ryuichi's anger flared, but then he felt it melt away. His hands uncurled and he felt tightness in his chest. His throat constricted and his eyes misted over. That was right. He had. He had thrown in all away, so he had no right to get jealous at the thought of someone else with his Shuichi. He did not even have the right to think of Shuichi as “his”.

“What Shuichi ever saw in you, I'll never know! He must have been blinded by his idolatry of you!”

Ryuichi's head snapped around to glare with renewed anger through his tear filled eyes in the general direction of the phone.

“Knowing you, you most likely seduced him by catching him on the rebound!”

Ryuichi growled. What was this guy playing at? How dare he-?

Wait a minute. Rebound? Now, he remembered.

_“During the concert. You seemed somewhat distracted. Like you weren’t all there.”_

_Shuichi found that he was a little unsettled by the almost split personality his idol displayed as well as the astute perceptions the man seemed o possess. Startled by the sudden powerful insight, Shuichi was shocked into silence. He opened his mouth, but closed it without saying anything. He tried again. “I-I don't-”_

_“Shuichi,” Ryuichi scolded._

_It took half a dozen tries, but Shuichi finally managed to say, “I--we broke up…last month.” He cleared his throat violently and blinked away the sudden unsought of tears that stung his eyes. “But I thought he’d…I mean, maybe…” Shuichi shook his head, sighing. “Never mind,” he mumbled._

_“You still love him-”_

_Shuichi bit his lip and turned away from the penetrating stare of the older man. Tears stun his eyes and his throat constricted around a sob. His chest hurt and his heart ached._

_“-don't you?”_

Yuki. Eiri Yuki. It had to be. That was why he thought he sounded like Tatsuha because Eiri was Tatsuha's brother. He also happened to be Shuichi's ex-boyfriend. He suddenly had a very bad feeling.

“You disgusting louse! But now everyone in Japan knows what a lowdown creep you really are.”

It sounded like Eiri was laughing at him. Ryuichi clenched his hands and gritted his teeth. He wished he could just reach through the phone and…

“And soon everyone in the whole world will too!”

Ryuichi gasped. His eyes popped out of his head and his face paled.

“You had your chance with him!”

Ryuichi felt his heart starting to beat faster. A surge of adrenaline and fear washed away his anger.

“You even had a second chance to prove yourself!”

He did not like this. Shaking, his breathing rapid and shallow, Ryuichi took a shaky step down the hall and then another.

“And you blew it! You detestable oaf! So now,” Eiri continued, his voice turning falsely sweet.

Ryuichi paused halfway down the hall, straining his ears to listen carefully.

“It's my turn.”

His eyes as wide as saucer's, Ryuichi gasped again.

“Too bad, Sakuma. You should learn to take better care of your belongings.”

“No,” Ryuichi breathed. “No, no, no, no!” He raced down the hall and into the den.

“If you don't use them, you're bound to lose them,” he heard Eiri mock.

Ryuichi skidded to a halt by the phone. His heart racing, he grabbed the extension off the cradle. His hands shaking uncontrollably, the phone jumped from one hand to another like a game of hot potato. Juggling the phone to his ear, he cried out in panic and alarm, “No! Eiri! Please!”

Low chuckles flowed into his ear and then nothing.

“Eiri? Shit,” he cursed, hearing the buzz in his ear. He slammed the phone onto its cradle.

His vision blurred behind a stinging veil of tears. With a sob, Ryuichi covered his mouth, his other hand still holding the phone. What had he done? Would he lose the love of his life because he was a weak, insatiable fool? No! With renewed vigor and determination, Ryuichi dropped his hand from his mouth and wiped his face free of tears. His fingers danced over the keys.

“Tohma,” he said as soon as his long time friend picked up the phone. He did not bother to wait for him to say anything. “Get me a flight to Toronto. Now,” he ordered.

Sitting behind his desk in his home office, Tohma Seguchi sighed and sat back in his leather chair. He knew this was going to happen. “Alright, Ryu. I'll do what I can.” He just hoped he was doing the right thing.

 

* * *

 

**Late Sunday Afternoon, 400 PM -- En route to Newark Liberty International Airport**

It felt as if hot pokers had been stabbed into his eyes. His eyelids felt like they were being weighed down with lead weights. His limbs felt like dead weights and his muscles ached. His flight from Narita International Airport to Newark lasted fifteen hours--fourteen hours and fifty-four minutes to be exact. Then from there, he had to take a cab to J.F. Kennedy International Airport where he would catch a flight to Pearson International Airport in Toronto, Ontario, Canada where Bad Luck’s last concert was to be held before they returned home. And he was dead tired. Planes always did that to him. He could hardly keep his eyes open, but his mind refused to let him sleep. It was like the Energizer Bunny; it kept going and going and going.

Ryuichi yawned loudly and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

He tried to focus on the movie currently being showed, but lost interest after five seconds. It was some sort of martial arts comedy. The intricate fighting scene was making his head spin and his eyes cross.

Turning his head, he glanced out the window and watched the clouds zip by.

They were about half an hour away from New York and then it was a hop, skip and a jump to Toronto and Shuichi.

Ryuichi cupped a hand over his mouth as a sudden yawn seized him. It brought tears to his eyes. Cursing, he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he slid down in his seat. A sudden vibration against his hip startled the yawn right out of him. Pushing back against the seat, he lifted his hip and unclipped his cellphone from his belt. Holding his phone up, he checked the small LCD screen.

“NEW MESSAGE HAS ARRIVED,” he read.

Flipping the phone open, he read the number at the bottom of the screen. He scrunched his brow in confusion. It was a number he did not recognize, not that that was anything new. He had Shuichi, Tohma, Noriko, Tatsuha and his manager's number memorized, but that was it. It would be easier if his phone displayed names like the manual said it did, but then his phone was a piece of shit. Frowning, he accessed the message. As he read it, he grew angry. His grip tightened around the phone. He did not have to recognize the phone number to know who sent the text.

“B in TO in 30. LOL loser. Send out SOS. U going 2 need it.”

Ryuichi snarled angrily. Damn that man! If he so much as touched a hair on Shuichi's head…! Eiri may get to Toronto first, but that meant nothing. In the end, he would be the one to win Shuichi.

 

* * *

 

**En route to Lester B. Pearson International Airport -- Toronto Canada -- Same Time**

Snickering devilishly, Eiri snapped his cellphone shut.

He had intended to fly out yesterday, but when he checked the flight schedules after harassing Sakuma, he found--much to his annoyance--that he had been bumped onto a later flight, which in turn had been canceled for some reason he was still not too clear about. But finally, here was on his way to Toronto and Shuichi. As much as the delays annoyed him, he did not mind too much because he would still get to his destination long before that moron Ryuichi Sakuma.

Leaning back in his seat, he clutched his phone in his lap and turned to stare blankly out the window. He did not see the beautiful deep blue sky enveloping the plane, nor the wispy white drifts floating past the windows. The noisy buzz of the cabin was nothing more than muted white noise. All he could concentrate on was one chameleon-like pipsqueak who for some strange reason had managed to do the one thing that nobody else had been able to do since his parents’ divorce: make him fall in love with him.

Holding up his phone, he stared at it with renewed determination.

Shuichi would be his.

 

* * *

 

**NG Productions -- Tokyo, Japan -- Same Time**

The leather squeaked as Tohma reclined in his chair. He rested his elbows on the arms of the chair and steepled his fingers under his chin. His eyes riveted on the framed photograph of Ryuichi, Noriko and himself from back when they started Nittle Grasper as gawky looking teenagers.

Had he done the right thing? He did not like to admit this, but he just was not so sure.

 

* * *

 

Sunday 430 PM -- Lester B. Pearson International Airport -- Toronto Canada

Among the dozens of people exiting the plane with their carry on luggage trailing behind them was one man who stood out. Tall with a light complexion, honey blond hair that hung like a curtain over his eyes hidden behind a pair of dark wraparound shades and tickled the collar of his open button down dark green shirt. Under the shirt was a black T-shirt with a peeling white decal advertising some rock band currently under contract with NG Productions, which was tucked in a pair of stonewashed jeans. His gold earring twinkled as the light hit it.

Eiri drew the gaze of everyone around him, men, women and everyone in-between equally, as he strode down the ramp and onto the solid ground of the waiting area surrounding the gate, his heels making a continuous clunking sound on the tiled floor.

He scanned the open, airy, way too bright and sardine packed airport. The noise was overwhelming. He could hardly hear himself think. The waiting areas surrounding the gate and boarding ramp were full of people waiting to either board the plane or waiting to greet friends or relatives exiting the plane.

Shouldering his bag, Eiri pushed his way none too gently through the crowd of people whose loitering was blocking traffic and headed towards customs and Shuichi.

 

* * *

 

Eiri Uesugi was one-step closer to making Shuichi his. It would be great if Sakuma's plane became lost or maybe there would be a huge pile up on the highway and he would be caught in the middle of it. It might be too much to ask, but he would give his left nut to make something happen to that idiot.

Taking one last drag of his cigarette, Eiri tossed the butt on the ground, crushed it under his heel while blowing out a thin stream of smoke.

Fixing the strap of his bag that was slipping off his shoulder, he walked towards his cab as it pulled up. He shot a heated glare that would peel the paint off the broadside of a barn at a woman who walked straight for it. He felt a thrill of satisfaction when she cowered away. Opening the cab door, he tossed his bag in before him. Slamming the door closed behind him, he automatically locked it.

“Crowne Plaza Hotel,” he told the cabbie in nearly unaccented English.

The guy started the meter and pulled into traffic.

 

* * *

 

**Crowne Plaza Hotel - Don Valley, Toronto -- Same Time**

His suit was as white as his professionally whitened teeth. There was not a wrinkle, crinkle or crease to be seen on the suit that was not supposed to be there. The silk button down shirt was the deepest royal blue and it made the white of the suit glow. The solid black tie vanished into the shirt. His black dress shoes shinned like a new coin in the hallway lights. His hair was slicked back and tied at the nape of his neck. The tresses hung down between his shoulder blades.

Shouldering his black leather bag, Daisuke stepped out into the hall and shut the door to his hotel room behind him, jingling the handle to make sure it was securely locked--it was. He turned and caught sight of Hiro stepping out of his hotel room several doors down. “Ready?” he called.

Glancing up as he shut the door to his hotel room, watching their manager stride down the hall towards him, Hiro shrugged. “I guess.”

Last night after the concert in Pittsburgh, the roadies had packed up the gear and headed straight to Toronto via a private plane Daisuke had chartered . Bad Luck themselves had taken a red eye and after catching a few hours of rest, went to the auditorium after breakfast for a sound check and a quick run through of the set list. Then it was off to the hotel for a late lunch, or early dinner depending on how you looked at it, and a short nap. And now, they were off to do a radio interview at a local radio station that was broadcasting live at the Anime Festival.

Apparently, each week the radio station featured an up and coming band, a band not in the main stream but has been making a name for themselves and creating a buzz. This week, they decided to feature Bad Luck. Hiro had to admit that it was good publicity not only for the band, but also for Japanese music in general.

But anything that Bad Luck had to appear on was the bane of their existence. There was no telling what could happen, especially where Shuichi was concerned. But then again, K had a lot to do with everything that went wrong. To him all roads lead to Rome, which was not a sentiment everybody shared. Hiro was not the only one grateful to have Daisuke with them on this tour. With him, things have been going rather smoothly, but again, there was Shuichi. His best friend was an enigma and there really was no telling what would happen.

Suddenly, Hiro felt nauseous.

Daisuke grinned as he watched his guitarist's face twist into a grimace. “Don't worry,” he chuckled, patting the young man on the shoulder. “You'll do fine!”

Hiro looked at him sharply out of the corner of his eyes. t made Daisuke's grin widen.

“Where are the others?” Daisuke asked, glancing up and down the hallway.

“In the lobby.”

Daisuke nodded. “And Shuichi?”

Hiro chucked his head towards the closed door opposite his hotel room.

Daisuke gazed at what was Shuichi’s hotel room. There was a “Do Not disturb” sign hanging from his doorknob.

“The guys went down to the lobby to wait for the van and I decided to check on Shuichi.”

Daisuke nodded.

“I knocked on his door, but he didn't answer so we figured he had already gone downstairs and just forgot to take down his sign, but when we got to the lobby, he wasn't there. Nobody’s seen him. So, I came back up to try his room again. I called his room and his cell, but I still couldn't get hold of him.” With a sigh, Hiro glanced at his friend's door with a frown between his brows. “I'm sure he's just sleeping and turned off his phone or something.”

Daisuke nodded. “Probably,” he agreed. “The strain of this tour seems to be taking its toll on him.”

“Yeah,” Hiro agreed with a nod. He knew how stressful it was for Shuichi. As Bad Luck's lead singer and front man, Shuichi was put in a more demanding position then the rest of them.

“Head on down with the others and I'll go check on Shuichi.”

Hiro looked a little uncertain.

Daisuke chuckled. “Go,” he ordered, giving the guitarist a playful shove.

“All right! All right! I'm going.” Hiro gave the older man a quick wave and strode off down the hall towards the elevators.

Smiling in amusement, Daisuke crossed the hall and rapt lightly on Shuichi’s door. There was no sign of life from inside the suite. With a frown, Daisuke knocked harder. Once again, everything remained still and quiet.

“Shuichi?” he called through the door with another knock. “Shu, it's me! The van’s here! We have that interview at six! Shuichi?” He banged sharply on the door. Sighing in frustration and growing annoyance, Daisuke tried the doorknob and to his surprise found it unlocked. He would have to have a serious talk with Shuichi about that.

Fixing his bag that was sliding off his shoulder, Daisuke swung open the door and peered inside. A cave of darkness greeted him. He pushed the door open wider with his index finger and took a step inside. As his eyes began to adjust, he started to make out the vague shapes of the furnishings. The first thing he noticed was a clicking sound. He glanced in the direction the sound was coming from and spotted Shuichi sitting at the far side of the room in front of a laptop; the light from the screen illuminated his face. The nineteen year old was staring almost as if he was in a hypnotic trance at the screen with his chin cupped in his hand while his other hand moved back and forth over the keyboard. The light on the screen flickered, changing the shadows and contour of Shuichi’s face.

Daisuke opened his mouth to call out to Shuichi, but thought better of it. Stepping deeper into the suite, Daisuke quietly shut the door behind him, being careful not to let the door latch catch. Setting his bag down on the floor by the door, he silently strode through the living room, skirting the sofa. As he neared Shuichi, something on the computer screen caught his attention, but before he could get much of a look, the laptop snapped shut.

“Hey, Daisuke,” Shuichi greeted in surprise. “I didn't hear you.”

“And Hiro,” Daisuke added.

“Huh?” Shuichi blinked blankly.

Daisuke shook his head. “Nothing. Are you ready?”

“For what?”

Daisuke rolled his eyes. He should have known. “The interview.”

“What interview?”

“The radio interview.”

Shuichi continued to stare at Daisuke blankly. He blinked long and slow, utterly confused. “Oh, shit,” he gasped, his heart racing as he suddenly remembered. He glanced at his wristwatch.

Daisuke stared sharply at his singer's hand, frowning deeply. Shuichi wasn’t wearing his ring.

“Why didn't you come get me earlier?” Shuichi cried out in panic, snapping Daisuke out of his thoughts. Cursing, Shuichi flew past Daisuke; cutting through the living room, he jumped the sofa and the coffee table as if they were hurtles and raced into the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him.

Daisuke snickered. Shuichi acted as if being late meant the end of the world. He jumped when he heard a sudden loud crash from the bedroom. “Shu?” Daisuke called.

“I'm fine,” Shuichi called back.

“What happened?”

“N-nothing!” There was a muffled clatter. “Shit,” he heard Shuichi curse.

Daisuke sighed heavily and shook his head. There was never a dull moment.

He crossed the room towards the heavy blackout curtains. Searching among the folds of the drapes, he pulled the cord and watched as the curtains parted. The once dark suite was thrown into sudden brilliant light. Much better, he thought. Deciding to leave the sliding glass doors that opened out onto a small balcony overlooking the city opened a slight crack to allow a cool breeze to whisper through the room, Daisuke instead pulled closed the vertical blinds and the gauzy curtains.

Turning back around, Daisuke scanned the living room of Shuichi's suite. He took in the modern, contemporary décor that he was not too fond of. His eyes swept passed his own bag by the door, the fully equipped eat-in kitchen, the closed door that lead into the bathroom and then landed on the desk to his left with the laptop sitting on it.

He frowned as his mind flashed back to that brief glimpse he had caught of the screen before Shuichi shut it down. He could not be sure, but from what he had been able to see, it looked as if Shuichi had been looking at a photograph of a high-rise apartment complex. He could have sworn there had been some people in the picture, though he had not been able to make out who they were. He wondered curiously, what the photo had been of and if it had something to do with Shuichi's strange behavior.

Still frowning, he turned to stare at the closed bedroom door.

The bedroom door opened suddenly and Shuichi stepped out. He had chosen a pair of dark blue jeans that rode low on his hips with a white T-shirt that had some obscure black decal under a white stripped unbuttoned button down shirt, a black blazer and a pair of black boots. His hair had been combed and was hanging loose and neat around his shoulders. Daisuke looked closer and noticed that Shuichi had put on little makeup. Male he may be, but an entertainer he was. No star would be caught dead without some sort of makeup on in public, especially if they had to make a public appearance.

Shuichi caught Daisuke staring and with a toothy grin, held his hands out and twirled. “What do you think?” he asked brightly.

Gorgeous, he thought. Aloud he said, “Not bad,” with an approving nod.

“Really?”

Daisuke nodded. “Yes, really. You look amazing.”

Shuichi squealed and clapped his hands, bouncing in excitement.

Daisuke’s gaze traveled to his singer’s hair. “Did you color your hair again?”

“Yeah!” Shuichi grinned widely. “I did it the other day. Like it?”

“Shu,” Daisuke sighed heavily. “You know, your hair is going to fall out if you keep dying it so often.”

Shuichi pouted dramatically. “But I like it!”

Daisuke sighed and shook his head. Shuichi had gone from the flaming red hair he has had since the beginning of the tour to a dark burgundy. It was actually the closest he has come to his natural black hair since Daisuke joined the band as their co-manager. The dark burgundy of Shuichi’s hair appeared black except that in the light it had an almost purplish haze to it.

“Don’t you?” Shuichi gazed up into his manager’s face with large puppy dog eyes and batted those long lashes of his. His now red-hazel eyes filled with tears.

Daisuke cursed himself as he once again fell victim to the charm that was Shuichi Shindou. “I do.”

Shuichi beamed brightly. “Really?”

Daisuke chuckled. “I never said I didn’t. I’m just saying-”

“Thank you, Daisuke!”

Oh, boy, the older man thought. “So, you ready or what?”

Shuichi nodded, beaming.

“Okay.” Daisuke strode across the room and shouldered his bag. Swinging the suite door open, he stepped back and swept his hand out. “ _Après vous, Monsieur._ ”

“ _Merci_ ,” Shuichi responded with a graceful nod as he swept past his manager and stepped out into the hall.

Daisuke chuckled with an amused shake of his head. Shuichi had a hard time speaking English, yet he had been able to pick up some French from him. Go figure.

He shut the door making sure it was locked and trotted down the hall to catch up to his singer. Shuichi was standing in front of the elevators, pushing the down button. Daisuke immediately zeroed in on his still ring-less hand and frowned. The elevator dinged and moments later, the doors slid open. Shuichi clasped his hands behind his back and danced onto the elevator, humming happily. Daisuke followed him and pressed the button for the lobby, deep in thought. As the doors slid shut, Daisuke had a sinking feeling he had the answer to all his questions.

 

* * *

 

**500 PM -- Crowne Plaza Hotel**

“Here you are, Mr. Uesugi,” the woman said shyly. Her face was bright red as she held out a white plastic key card.

Amused by the girl’s reaction, Eiri snatched his room key out of her trembling fingers. “Thanks,” he smiled kindly.

If possible, the girl's blush deepened. She dipped her head, lowering her eyes to the stack of paperwork she was behind in sorting through.

The girl appeared to be nothing more than a child. She was a little on the short side, not much taller than Shuichi. Not exactly as tiny and lithe, but neither was she overweight either. Her Mahogany brown hair hung down her back in tight ringlets. She peered up at him with yellow-green eyes before dropping her gaze again, her face burning hotly. There was nothing remarkable about her. She had average looks, was of average height and weight. Her beige suit could be purchased in any department store in the country. The only thing that stood out about her was her massive breasts. If he were not gay, he would be all over her like white on rice. Oh, well. The person he wanted to bed was a lot prettier anyway.

“Have a pleasant evening, sir,” the girl wished softly.

“A pleasant evening”, huh? Eiri smirked as he thought about his flame haired god. Oh, he planned on it. Pocketing his room key, he shouldered his bag and strode across the lobby to the elevators, grinning confidently.

The girl watched the blond god walk off. She slumped down, exhaling noisily when he vanished behind a group of potted plants. That had been the most gorgeous man she had ever seen in her life!

“Excuse me,” said a sudden voice.

Startled, she swallowed a gasp and jumped. Her head snapped up. Her eyes wide, she stared transfixed at the blond haired angelic god standing before her once again.

Eiri read the name on the nametag pinned to her beige blazer: Linda Murphy. “Ms. Murphy, I was wondering if you could help me with something.” He flashed the patent smile he had perfected over the years. It did not fail him.

Linda's face turned lobster red almost instantly. Steam whistled out from the collar of her white blouse and she practically melted into a puddle of goo behind the front desk.

“You see, I’m meeting an old friend here. I was wondering if you could tell me if he had checked in.”

“Sure,” she whispered, dazed. With much difficulty, she tore her gaze away from Eiri and turned towards the computer.

Eiri noticed that she was able to regain her composure as she clicked away at the computer.

“And what would his name be?”

Eiri smirked. “Shindou. Shuichi Shindou. He might have checked in under either ‘Jordan’ or ‘Shinta’.” Both were his grandfathers’ names.

“Okay. Just give me a second,” she told him. Her fingers flew over the keyboard. Her eyes zipped across the screen. “Okay. Here it is.” She pointed at the monitor as the information popped onto the screen. “He checked in this morning.”

Perfect, Eiri thought.

Linda turned to him and was immediately sucked back into the intensity of his beauty.

Flashing that dreamy smile of his again, Eiri asked sweetly, “You wouldn't be able to tell me what room he's staying in would you?”

Linda blinked, unable to comprehend the words coming out of this gorgeous man's mouth.

“You see,” Eiri continued, “I haven't seen him in over a year.” He reached across the counter and grabbed her hand. He gently raised her hand to his lips, his eyes never leaving her face. He pressed his lips to the back of her hand. “I would greatly appreciate it,” he whispered huskily, flashing that dreamy smile of his again.

“I-I-I-I, uh, sure?”

Eiri's smile widened. Sorry Sakuma, he thought cheekily. You snooze. You lose.

 

* * *

 

**730 PM -- Toronto Congress Center**

Shuichi yawned loudly. He rubbed his burning eyes as the black van Daisuke had rented for their stay in Toronto pulled out of the parking lot. Sighing, he slouched down in the middle row of seats as he fingered his burgundy dyed locks before clasping his hands behind his head. Stretching out his legs, he rested his head against the seat and closed his eyes. He tuned out Hiro, Suguru, Ethan and Kevin as their laughing voices swirled around him.

Their driver was silent. He was always quiet. Never spoke unless spoken to. It was as if speaking was a deadly allergen.

Meanwhile, Daisuke and Shinichiro were speaking about tomorrow's schedule. They had an autograph session with the other bands and singers on tour with them and several of the voice actors who had been invited to the festival. Then there was a final sound check and dress rehearsal. The concert began at about five and ran until around ten or so.

On the way to the Toronto Congress Center, where the Anime Fest was being held, for their interview with the radio station, Daisuke had given them a choice. They could return to Japan on Tuesday and have the next two weeks off until SugoiCon in Tokyo next Friday or they could go on to St. Catharine's, Ontario for the Garden City Anime Festival and then to Winnipeg, Canada; Anaheim, California; Oshawa, Canada; Mesa, Arizona; Oxford, Alabama and then return to Tokyo. For the first time in his life, Shuichi was unsure what he wanted to do: go home or extend the tour.

Prying open heavy eyelids, he lifted his left hand and held it out above his head. He stared at his ringless hand in the bright red setting sun. Like last night, he felt absolutely nothing and like last night, the tears suddenly stinging his eyes and blurring his vision were in response to the empty feeling he felt inside. He was never one to shy from confrontation, but this time…This time it was beginning to sound more and more like a very good idea. He just needed some time to think and figure out what he should do next. Clenching his hand, he held it tightly against his heart and squeezed his eyes shut tight, trying to hold back his tears.

It was official. Love sucked.

 

* * *

 

**800 PM -JFK International Airport**

Ryuichi had left at quarter to five Sunday evening from the Narita Airport in Japan and was scheduled to arrive at the Lester B. Pearson International Airport in Toronto at around eight o'clock Sunday night. While technically over sixteen hours would pass before he would arrive at his final destination, from a certain point of view, only three hours and fifteen minutes would have passed since he left Japan. It was a strange bit of knowledge that he could never get used to. It was like being able to relive the last several hours over again, which was something he really wished he could do, especially after the complete mess he made of everything--again. Unfortunately, that was impossible.

Ryuichi snapped his cellphone shut.

Why had Tohma not booked him on the same flight as that rat bastard, Yuki? With his influence, surely Tohma would have had no problem squeezing him on that flight. Or he could have let him use his private plane.

He was in a cab on his way to JFK International Airport. His flight from Narita to Newark Liberty had actually arrived early, but his connecting flight to Toronto was delayed. Dammit! He just hoped it was not too late. If Eiri got to Shuichi first, there was no telling how he would poison Shuichi's mind against him. He had to get to Shuichi and try to make things right at any cost.

 

* * *

 

**Crowne Plaza Hotel -- Same Time**

“You sure?” Hiro asked his best friend as the group stood in the lobby of the hotel. He searched his friend's face carefully.

Shuichi nodded, forcing himself to smile. “I'll just order room service.”

“Okay. Get some rest then,” Daisuke ordered.

“Yeah,” Suguru added. “We don't need you collapsing on stage or something like you almost did last night.”

Something inside Shuichi snapped. Fisting his hands at his sides, he glared at his keyboardist with hatred in his eyes and venom dripping from his canines. He snarled, his lips peeling back. “You-!”

“That's enough,” Hiro said calmly, stepping in-between them.

Ethan and Kevin exchanged glances.

Hiro placed his hands on Shuichi’s shoulders and backed him up several steps as behind him, Suguru stared at Shuichi in wide-eyed confusion and shock.

“C'mon,” Daisuke told the keyboardist. He draped an arm around Suguru’s narrow shoulders and steered him and the others towards the restaurant.

Shuichi felt his anger evaporate just as fast as it appeared. Suddenly, he felt drained and exhausted. He peered around Hiro's broad shoulders at Suguru's retreating form. What was wrong with him? What had he tried to do? Sure Suguru tended to irritate him beyond words every now and again, but still…His chest suddenly hurt and his soul felt heavy. Maybe he should take the next two weeks off. If for nothing more than to clear his head before he really did something he regretted. “I'm--I'm sorry. I didn't…” He stepped away from Hiro as his words became lodged in his throat. The world around him blurred behind a mist of tears.

Hiro frowned. “You all right?”

Shuichi shook his head as a tear rolled down his cheek. He did not have the strength to lie, not that Hiro would believe his lie anyway. “Just…” He cleared his throat forcibly and blinked away the veil of tears blinding him. “Just tell Fujisaki…” Shuichi shook his head, unable to go on.

Hiro frowned. “You know you can always talk to me, right?”

Shuichi did know that. He gave his friend a genuine smile. “I know. Thanks.” He crossed his arms over his chest as he turned around and walked to the elevators.

Hiro watched his friend as he pressed the button for the elevator. There was a “ping” and the doors slid open. Shuichi stepped inside and pressed the button for their floor. The doors slid closed without Shuichi once looking up.

 

* * *

 

The white plastic key card slid into the slot above the door handle. The light flashed green and the door swung open. Shuichi dragged himself inside and shut the door behind him, locking it securely. He tossed his room key onto the nearest table and then toed off his shoes, peeling off his socks and tossing them onto the floor next to his shoes. Straightening, he closed his eyes and sniffing, wiped at a tear that trickled down his cheek.

“It's about time you got back--you damned brat.”

Shuichi froze at the sound of that voice. His heart started racing. His palms grew slick with perspiration. Breathing heavily, he slowly opened his eyes and turned towards the sound of the voice. His heart stopped dead. “Y-Yu--ki?” he gasped.

Eiri stepped out of the shadows and into the light streaming in through the balcony doors from the setting sun.

Tears streamed down Shuichi's face. He could not believe it! Was this a dream? Was he hallucinating? Was this really Yuki, his Yuki, standing before him? It could not be. It just…It was impossible! It was…

Eiri took a step towards Shuichi and watched the mixture of emotions flicker across the singer’s face. He smiled gently at the younger man. “Yeah. It's me,” he assured him, his voice gentle.

That was all the assurance Shuichi needed. With a sob, he raced across the room and flung himself into Eiri's waiting arm. The strong scent of cigarette smoke overwhelmed him, but he welcomed it just as he welcomed Eiri’s arms that wrapped around him and pulled him into a tight embrace against him.

Eiri buried his face in Shuichi’s soft hair, vowing silently never to let him go again. It had been a year in the making, but he finally had his Shuichi back.

 

**…To Be Continued…**


	4. Reunited Lovers

**Chapter 4: Reunited Lovers**

**Sunday 800 PM -- Crowne Plaza Hotel -- Toronto, Canada**

Only a lamp in the far corner was on, dimly lighting the hotel suite and elongating the shadows.

The sun had vanished from the sky, slipping out of view behind the horizon of a metal and glass landscape. Through the open balcony doors, the first stars twinkled to life in the midnight blue sky. A hand unseen fingered the textured gauzy curtains, making them rustle. The vertical blinds slapped together silently, their whispered chiming filling the darkened suite. The breeze enveloped the couple entwined together in the middle of the living room, two large shadows in front of the sliding doors. They stood in a square pool of light, their shadows creating silhouettes on the floor.

Into the silence soft muffled sobs rasped. Salty drops of water congealed into a heavy torrent that poured down Shuichi’s face.

Eiri tightened his hold on the trembling man, running his hands up and down Shuichi’s back. He buried his face in the burgundy hair tickling his chin. Strangely, despite all the chemicals polluting it, Shuichi’s hair was unbelievably soft. A tiny smile crossed his face as he inhaled the sweet, intoxicating scent that was Shuichi. It was a mixture of strawberry and vanilla.

This was so unlike him. Eiri felt like those lovesick fools he wrote about in his novel. What happened to that heartless eligible bachelor, that cold, stoic man who did not care about anyone or anything and who would bring home a different person every night but found no pleasure in the act; just went through the motions in an effort to forget? That man for the past year has been gradually disappearing and now that the object of his affection was back in his arms, he could feel his old self, who had been trying to hold on for dear life, lose his grip and vanish into oblivion.

“I saw you,” he whispered above the younger man’s sobs. He gripped Shuichi and held him firmly against him.

His mind muddled, Shuichi’s mind blanked. Confused, he tipped his head back to peer up at Eiri through glistening red-hazel eyes, his hands coming to rest lightly but firmly on Eiri’s broad shoulders. A stray tear whispered down his flushed, drenched cheeks. “What?” he asked. His voice was tight. Shuichi watched as Eiri trapped the droplet with his finger.

Bringing his finger to his mouth, Eiri licked the tear slick digit.

A hot blush reddened Shuichi’s face.

Chuckling softly, Eiri brought one hand up to cup Shuichi’s face while his other hand gripped his narrow hips possessively.

Shuichi leaned into the warm touch. A gentle smile was on his face. His eyes fluttered closed.

“When you opened for ASK at Zepp Tokyo.”

“I remember,” Shuichi said. He covered Eiri’s hand on his cheek. Opening his eyes, he stared lovingly into those beautiful eyes.

“Seguchi dragged me into going,” Eiri admitted.

Silence enveloped the couple. Shuichi blinked stupidly for several long seconds. His face was neutral. Then what Eiri just said finally penetrated the thick layers of fog in his head. “What?” Shuichi exclaimed in disbelief. “You were there?”

Eiri nodded.

“At the concert?”

Again, Eiri nodded. He was slightly amused by the incredulity and astonishment on the singer’s face. “I was not going to go, but then I learned you were going to be performing and I found I couldn’t turn him down.”

Stunned, Shuichi stumbled backwards. Eiri’s arms fell away.

_“Who were you looking for?”_

_Shuichi blinked, startled out his thoughts that were instantly forgotten by the sudden question. “What?” He turned and looked at Ryuichi. Gone was the innocent childlike man that he had seen backstage at Zepp Tokyo. In its place was the serious singer whom had sung with him earlier on stage. It was somewhat unnerving._

_“During the concert. You seemed somewhat distracted. Like you weren’t all there.”_

All too clearly, Shuichi remembered the longing he’d felt as Bad Luck had taken the stage that night, hoping and praying and wishing that Eiri would show, but also hesitant to see him again. After all, he had believed that things between the two of them were going great! But then he’d woken up the morning after to an empty bed. How was he supposed to take that? Shuichi had been a virgin before that night, so maybe Eiri had found his skills lacking? Whatever the problem was, Shuichi had been adamant that he could fix it. He’d refused to believe that all they were destined to be was a one night stand…But to his dismay, he hadn’t seen Eiri among the sea of fans filling Zepp Tokyo.

Now here Eiri was telling him that he had in fact been at Zepp Tokyo that night. Eiri had come to the concert because he’d wanted see him.

Vaguely,

Shuichi wondered how he could have missed Eiri.

If only he’d known…

He also couldn’t believe that nobody had said anything to him about Eiri being at the concert. Shuichi felt a little hurt that he had been left out of the loop. Then again, he thought gloomily, why would anybody tell him anything? It wasn’t as if Eiri and he were together. Eiri could do whatever he wanted with whomever he wanted; even go to a Bad Luck concert; it wasn’t as if Eiri had to answer to him or anything. That realization made Shuichi feel suddenly very sad. With a grimace, he clutched his chest as his heart gave a painful lurch. Tears prickled his eyes.

Eiri watched the different emotions swim across Shuichi’s face. A fist tightened around his heart as he watched Shuichi’s face fall. He did not like that expression on his soon to be lover’s face. It did not suit Shuichi. Reaching out a hand, Eiri cupped the side of Shuichi’s face and brushed his thumb across his cheek, sweeping over a lone tear that traversed down the damp hill. “What’s this for?” he asked in a soft voice. “Huh?”

Shuichi gave him a forced watery smile and shook his head. He did not trust his voice.

“Dummy,” Eiri said lightly.

Shuichi bit back a smile that threatened to split his face as a rosy blush tinted his cheeks.

“Beautiful,” Eiri whispered before he could stop himself.

The blush deepened.

Eiri chuckled softly. Wrapping his arms around Shuichi’s shoulders, he reeled him in.

Shuichi hugged his arms around Eiri’s chest and nestled against him with a contented sigh. Smiling, he closed his eyes

“I learned something that day.”

“Hm,” Shuichi hummed as he burrowed further into Eiri’s body. He loved the feeling of being wrapped within Eiri’s arms. All his worries, fears, and inhibitions evaporated. Being held like this by Eiri made him as if he was protected and that nothing else mattered.

“I learned,” Eiri continued, speaking softly into Shuichi’s ear, “that I was a fool to let you go.”

Shuichi inhaled sharply and his eyes popped open. He stared slack jawed and speechless at the far wall hidden deep within the shadows.

Eiri found all of it tumbling out quite easily. “I felt something that night--the night we met.”

So did I, Shuichi thought with a tiny smile, tightening his grip.

“But it scared me,” Eiri confessed. He laid his cheek upon Shuichi’s head.

Shuichi frowned. “What did?” he asked curiously.

“…What you were making me feel.”

Shuichi blinked. What he was making him feel? What did that mean? Was Eiri saying that he--that he--loved him? Confused, Shuichi pulled away from the man and searched his face carefully. “Yuki,” he whispered.

Unable to hold that penetrating gaze, Eiri turned his head to stare blankly over Shuichi’s shoulder. “…I told you about my parents, right?”

“Oh, Yuki,” Shuichi whispered.

He remembered. It was the one subject that Eiri had refused to go into any great detail about accept to say that it had been a bitter and ugly parting that had affected him greatly; that still clearly affected him to this day nearly twenty years later. Shuichi had not understood at the time how something like your parents’ marriage breaking apart could have such a strong influence on the rest of your life that you would be afraid of allowing yourself to fall in love. Then again, his parents were still together. They would be celebrating their twentieth wedding anniversary in September.

“And now--now I…” The rest was choked back.

Shuichi smiled sympathetically. He reached up and caressed a hand down the side of Eiri’s face. “It’s okay. Yuki.” He may not understand the turmoil waging through Eiri’s head, but he did know that there was one. And that he understood.

Eiri grabbed the small hand stroking his head and linked their fingers together. Raising their tangled hands, he pressed his lips to the back of Shuichi’s hand, which caused Shuichi’s face to burn hotly. With a smirk, Eiri continued, “But despite everything, I found myself--falling in love--with you,” he confessed. His face felt hot.

Shuichi gasped. Tears gathered in his eyes. “Yuki,” he breathed.

“I have no excuses for what I did other than to say that I was a complete and utter idiot for letting you walk away. I won’t apologize because I don’t deserve your forgiveness and I have no right to ask you for a second chance, not after everything that’s happened.” Eiri paused to take a breath and gather his thoughts.

Shuichi waited patiently for him to continue.

Lifting his head, Eiri stared into those rich hazel eyes that had hints of red. “I don’t deserve you, Shuichi Shindou. You are too good for me. I have nothing to offer you that you couldn’t find somewhere else.”

“Yuki?”

“And that’s…That’s why,” Eiri continued, “I was all right with letting Sakuma have you. I thought--I believed that he was a much better man for you; that he would be able to give you what I couldn’t.”

Tears trickled down Shuichi’s face.

Eiri’s eyes darkened as he thought over what that idiot Sakuma did give this breathtaking beauty before him. Apparently, he had placed his trust in the wrong person. If he ever got his hands on Sakuma…!

Concerned, Shuichi lifted a hand and it laid it gently on Eiri’s flushed cheek. “Yuki?”

Instantly, Eiri’s murderous thoughts slipped to the back of his mind and his eyes brightened. “Shuichi.”

Shuichi’s heart skipped a beat.

“I know I have no right to ask you this, but…”

Shuichi waited anxiously. His pulse started beating faster.

“But do you think we could…?” Eiri felt his face grow hot. “I’m not asking you to forgive me. I’m just…” Eiri struggled with the words. This was definitely not his forte. “Or to give me a second chance. I just want…” Eiri was growing frustrated with himself. “Will you come back to me? Could we try again?” he forced himself to say.

No sooner had those words left his mouth than he found himself with an armful of purple fluff. Taken aback, Eiri blinked, uncertain about how he should react or proceed. He held his arms out around them, his fingers twitching. Sweating, he wracked his brain as he tried to straighten out his thoughts and figure out what to do. Damn this lousy brat, confusing him to no end.

Fed up with his indecision, Eiri’s body relaxed, the tension dissipating and drew his arms about Shuichi. “Shuichi,” he sighed.

He tightened his hold around the shaking boy, burying his face in his hair. He hushed Shuichi quietly as he tried to comfort the crying singer. He was not sure what to do in situations like these. He opened and closed his mouth several times, feeling like a complete fool, unable to think of anything to say. Instead, he kept his tongue and just held Shuichi.

 

* * *

 

After awhile, Shuichi’s sobs began to lessen and his tears slowed. Lifting his head, he wiped his wet face with the heel of his hand then rested his cheek back against Eiri’s chest and stared blankly out into the shadow-strewn room. A lone tear rolled down his exposed cheek. “I was waiting,” he said into the silence.

“For what?” Eiri asked softly.

“You.”

Eiri’s stomach twisted.

Shuichi clawed at the back of Eiri’s shirt. Fresh tears clouded his vision. “All this time,” he wept, his voice thick with tears, “I’ve had this secret hope that you would come for me.”

“Shuichi.”

“But you never came,” Shuichi cried accusingly.

As a rule he never apologized, but this time as Eiri watched the tears stream down Shuichi’s face, heard the bitterness and the resentment in his voice, he could not not say something. “ _Gomen nasai_ ,” he apologized with a tight his voice.

“Why, Eiri? Why now? Of all times? Why?”

Eiri tightened his hold.

Shuichi lifted his head and stared into those hazel eyes golden like the sun eyes. A stray tear trickled down his face. “Why?” He grabbed fistfuls of Eiri’s shirt and shook him using all his bottled, pent up emotions. “Why!” he practically screamed.

Eiri growled, suddenly angry, but at whom he was not sure. “Because I couldn’t sit idly by and watch as that bastard continued to make a fool of you! I entrusted you to him, believed he would be able to take care of you and look what he pulls! He goes and has an affair with my little brother! Not once, but twice!”

Shuichi stood in stunned silence. “E-Eiri,” he whispered.

Eiri’s face softened as the anger rushed out of him at once. Reaching out, he caressed Shuichi’s cheek. “There were so many times I just wanted to go to you and take you back, whether you wanted to or not.”

A smile crossed Shuichi’s face.

“I had so many opportunities and chances to just snatch you off the street and drag you home with me where I envisioned spending the whole night making sweet, sweet love to you.”

“Why didn’t you?” Shuichi blurted without thinking. A blush tinted Shuichi’s cheeks as he realized what he just said. “I-I-I, uh, I mean, I didn’t-”

Eiri shook his head in amusement. Then with a sigh, his smile slipped off his face and was replaced by a grim expression.

Shuichi felt the sudden shift in the air, sensed the heaviness. A serious mask slipped over his face. “Eiri?” he called softly.

Eiri sandwiched Shuichi’s face between his hands and gazed deeply into Shuichi’s eyes. “Does it really matter why?” he asked, searching the man’s face. He took a step towards him, swallowing what little space there had been. “I’m here now aren’t I?” he said, his voice barely a whisper. He dipped his head.

Shuichi’s breath hitched. Breathing heavily, he licked dry lips and gripped Eiri’s shirt with sweaty palms. His pulse was racing. He could feel his heart beating painfully in his chest. “Eiri,” he whispered faintly right before Eiri’s lips pressed into his. His face was all Shuichi could see. Uncertain as to what he was supposed to do, Shuichi‘s mind reeled. Should he kiss him back or push him away? He didn’t know! Oh, he was just so confused. This whole thing was so confusing. Why did Eiri have to show up now of all times? The only thing that was going through his mind was, “He tastes of tobacco”.

Eiri pulled back, frowning deeply when he felt something wet drip onto his face. “Shu?” he called uncertainly. Had he pushed things too far too fast? He opened his mouth, but Shuichi’s soft, trembling voice cut him off.

“Why?” Shuichi whispered. “Why? I don’t understand.”

“Don’t understand what?”

Shuichi jerked Eiri’s shirt. “This! Us! You and me!” Sobbing and blinded by his tears, Shuichi collapsed to his knees at Eiri's feet. Burying his face in his hands, he cried silently.

Eiri watched the boy in growing sympathy.

“I never stopped loving you,” Shuichi confessed, weeping.

Crouching, Eiri folded his hands between his knees. “Then come back with me.”

“Huh?” Shuichi lifted tear filled eyes.

“Give us a chance to try again. Allow me the opportunity to try to win you back.”

Shuichi opened his mouth, but when nothing came out, snapped it shut. His mind was a maze and a jumble of thoughts.

Eiri watched those large beautiful eyes cloud over in confusion and felt like he had been kicked in the gut. “Do you love me?”

Shuichi lifted his head and gazed at Eiri. “Yes,” he admitted without any thought.

Eiri smirked. “Do you want to be with me?”

“…Yes.”

Eiri caught that moment’s hesitation and frowned angrily. He fisted his hands and clenched his jaw. Damn that man! Even after everything Sakuma did, Shuichi still feels some loyalty to him! “Why?” he growled.

Shuichi blinked in surprise at the angry tone. “Eiri?”

“That jerk cheated on you! He lied to you! He used you! And yet you still love him!” Eiri’s voice broke. “Why, Shuichi? Why do you stay with him?”

A sad little smile crossed Shuichi’s lips. “Because he’s my husband.”

 

* * *

 

The cool night air wrapped around Eiri, fingering his honey blond locks as he stood on the balcony leaning over the railing gazing out over the city. He ignored the discomfort as the edges of the railing pressed into his forearms; instead, he fed from it, used it to fuel his scattered emotions and thoughts.

Gray smoke curled into the air from the cigarette clamped between his lips, hazing the city lights that littered the landscape and broke up the blanket of night.

It was impossible to see the night sky the way it was meant to be seen because of the light pollution from the city, but the moon, deceptively full, was high in the sky, shinning brightly down upon them all.

He could hear the distant sound of traffic. It played a smooth lullaby, lulling him into a semi meditative trance.

From behind him, he could hear the playful slapping of the blinds as they clapped in the light breeze.

Peering over his shoulder, he glanced through the partially closed blinds, through the closed gauzy curtains and across the dimly lit suite towards the room door. A long shaft of light from the hallway lit the carpet, illuminating a partially visible Shuichi who was standing right outside the room speaking to someone out in the hallway. Eiri could hear his muffled voice, but could not make out what he or his visitor was saying.

Turning back around, he took his cigarette out of his mouth and exhaled a stream of smoke into the dark night as he tapped the gathering ashes over the railing.

As he stared over the sleeping city, his fisted hands snapped the smoldering cigarette in half and clenched his jaw tightly. His teeth ground together. His eyes hardened as Shuichi’s voice echoed repeatedly in his head.

_“Because he’s my husband.”_

Eiri sneered, baring his gleaming fangs. Cursing soundly, he tossed his broken cigarette over the railing with a snap of his wrist. Standing up, he grabbed the balcony railing, gripping it so tightly that it bit into his hands.

Damn him, he thought angrily. Why? He said he loved me. He said he wanted to be with me. So, why?

Eiri slammed his fist into the railing, ignoring the stinging pain.

Dammit, why?

The anger vanished as suddenly as it appeared, leaving him feeling drained.

Why?

Choking back a sob, he bent over the railing and masked his face in his hands. Combing his fingers through his hair, he clasped his hands together and gazed out over the city.

 

* * *

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Shuichi sighed with a roll of his eyes. He stepped backwards into his room.

“I mean it, Shuichi. You have an early day tomorrow.”

“I know!”

Daisuke searched the singer’s face. There was something there, something he could not quite put his finger on. “Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked in concern.

Shuichi sighed heavily. “Yes,” he answered exasperated.

“Okay,” Daisuke said, not fully convinced. “…You know that if you ever need to talk…”

“Thanks Daisuke,” Shuichi smiled sweetly. “But I’m fine. Really.”

“You-?”

“Night, Daisuke,” Shuichi called as he made a move to swing the door shut.

Daisuke stepped forward at the last minute and grabbed the door. “Shu-”

“Good night, Daisuke,” Shuichi repeated with more force.

“But I-!”

Shuichi smiled at the man, wiggling his fingers in farewell as he let the door swing shut. It closed with a quiet click. Immediately the smile slipped. Shuichi heaved a grateful sigh as he sagged against the door. “Man, that guy just won’t let up.”

“Who’s that?” came the sudden voice behind him.

With a gasp, Shuichi twirled around. “Yuki,” he breathed in surprise, a hand over his racing heart.

Eiri shoved the vertical blinds aside and stepped through the curtains into the suite, a scowl on his face. “Who was that?” he repeated, his voice hard.

Shuichi blinked, a little surprised and confused by Eiri’s tone. “Who? Daisuke?”

“Who is he?” Eiri demanded. His voice was dangerously low.

“Bad Luck’s manager,” Shuichi said with a frown.

“Manager?” Eiri repeated in disbelief.

“Yeah.”

“What about that crazy American?”

Shuichi blinked, uncertain whom he was referring. “…Oh! You mean K?”

“Isn’t he your manager?”

“Yes.”

“Then?”

“Then…what?”

Eiri indicated the door directly behind Shuichi. “Then what about that guy?” he growled impatiently.

Shuichi glanced over his shoulder at the door. “You mean Daisuke?”

“Yes!” How had he fallen in love with such an idiot?

“Well,” Shuichi said, scratching his head, “he’s more like a co-manager.” He picked his way through the suite to the couch, huddling into the corner farthest away from Eiri with his knees folded beneath him.

“A co-manager? Is that like a vice president?” Eiri joked. “What? Is the job of looking after you geeks too tough a job for just one baboon so they had to go and hire another one?”

Shuichi blinked stupidly, his face unchanging. “Hey!” he cried, glaring at the other man, feeling offended.

Eiri chuckled.

Shuichi crossed his arms over his chest. “Jerk,” he pouted with a huff.

Still chuckling, Eiri studied his love and noticed for the thousandth time that night just how adorably cute he was.

Eiri skirted the armchair and crossing his arms over his chest, perched himself on the arm. So.”

“So what?” Shuichi asked as he swung his legs out from under him and hugged them to his chest. His wiggled his bare toes over the edge of the cushions and rested his cheek on his knee.

“So why do you need two managers?”

“Oh, well, Daisuke was hired by Mr. Seguchi after K’s wife found out she had cancer.”

Eiri cocked an eyebrow. “He’s married.”

“Yeah,” Shuichi nodded.

“Uh, huh.” Eiri was not sure what was scarier, the man being married or the woman who married him. He had actually met K once very briefly, before he became the manager of Bad Luck, and the guy was a few cards short of a full deck.

“K said that we shouldn’t worry though. He said she wouldn’t let a little something like cancer get the better of her.”

It sounded like Shuichi was quoting. “How long’s this man…?”

“Daisuke?”

Eiri nodded. “How long’s he been your manager?”

Shuichi sat back against the cushions and ran his hands up and down his thighs. “Uhm…For about…maybe nine months?” He shrugged. “Something like that.”

Eiri frowned. Nine months, huh? That was around the time Tatsuha started seeing his “mystery lover”, which he knew now was none other than Ryuichi Sakuma. That was a very big coincidence if you asked him. “What did he want?”

“Huh?” Shuichi turned towards him.

“What did your manager want?”

“Oh, he wants me in bed,” Shuichi answered, turning away.

“Really,” Eiri commented, his voice thick.

Shuichi lifted his head with a surprised flutter of lashes. “Huh?” He turned and met Eiri’s heated gaze. Shuichi inhaled sharply. His pulse began to race and his palms grew slick. A hot blush glazed his cheeks. He licked lips gone dry and tore his gaze away from Eiri’s blazing one to stare studiously at the carpet, trying to ignore the penetrating eyes boring into the side of his head.

Ugly carpet, Shuichi thought. He preferred hard wood floors.

His eyes never leaving Shuichi’s face, Eiri dropped his arms to his sides and stood up. Rounding the coffee table, he made his way over to the sofa. Sitting down on the edge of the seat, he faced a fiercely blushing Shuichi. He took pride in the fact that he was the reason why Shuichi’s face was so red. God, how he loved this man! But that was what was at the core of this problem. Slowly the fire died and went cold. A frown slipped across his face as again, Shuichi’s reasoning resounded through his head.

_“Because he’s my husband.”_

Snarling softly, Eiri gritted his teeth. He had half a mind to just sweep Shuichi into his arms, carry him off to some uncharted island in the middle of the ocean and make him forget all about Sakuma and think only of him.

Forcing himself to calm down, he took deep, even breaths.

He had to know.

He had a right to know.

He deserved an answer.

Pumped up, he asked softly, “Why?”

Shuichi blinked, his embarrassment instantly forgotten. He turned to face Eiri. “What?”

Eiri scooted a little closer to Shuichi and stared right into those large red tinted brown eyes. “Why?”

Shuichi stared back at Eiri, right into those hard eyes that swirled with dark, angry storm clouds. His face slipped. Unable to bear those searching, demanding eyes any longer, he turned away . He knew what Eiri was asking, knew what he wanted to hear, but Shuichi was not sure if he had the answer, or rather, the answer Eiri wanted to hear. “I don’t know,” he finally said, breaking the silence. His stomach twisted and his heart gave a painful jolt as he heard what it was he said. He wished he had a better answer.

That was not good enough. “Why?” Eiri demanded harshly.

Shuichi shook his head. “I don’t know,” he repeated softly, his voice tight and thick with tears.

Eiri fisted a hand and slammed it against the coffee table, startling Shuichi who jumped with a yelp. “Why?”

With tears prickling his eyes, Shuichi cried, “Dammit, I don’t know!”

Even though some of the wind was taken from his sail, Eiri was not sure if he totally believed Shuichi’s answer. “…Do you love him?” Eiri asked him carefully.

Sniffling, Shuichi glanced at Eiri out of the corner of his eye. “What?”

“Sakuma,” Eiri cried impatiently. “Do--you--love--him.”

“He’s my husband.”

Eiri fisted his hands and gritted his teeth. “That’s not what I asked,” he snapped in annoyance.

Shuichi jumped with a yelp.

Eiri tried to get a hold of his emotions. “Do you feel for him what you feel for me?” he asked evenly.

Why was Eiri asking him this? Shuichi shook his head. He could not do this. He made a move to stand up, but a tight vise-like grip on his upper arm held him fast, yanking his back down. “Ow,” Shuichi cried in pain as he felt Eiri’s fingers digging into him.

“Do you feel for him what you feel for me?” Eiri repeated, jerking Shuichi towards him. He shook Shuichi none too gently when the boy remained silent. “Shuichi!”

“No,” Shuichi sobbed loudly, startling them both.

Eiri’s grip loosened.

With tears trickling down his face, Shuichi shook his head. “No, I don’t.”

That was a surprise, a most welcomed surprise, but a surprise nonetheless. Eiri shook himself. “Did you?” he asked gently.

Shuichi cradled his sore arm as he thought back over his relationship with Ryuichi, really thought about it. He had idolized the man, thought of Ryuichi as a god, his inspiration. Ryuichi was his best friend. Shuichi knew that Ryuichi was the one person he could always go to whenever he had a problem. Yes, he had Hiro and Daisuke, but Ryuichi was the one person he knew he could trust to remain objective. Hiro tended to be a tad overprotective and somewhat vague at times. Daisuke seemed to have ulterior motives whether he knew of them or not. Ryuichi was always there for him. Ryuichi loved him. Ryuichi was there for him when Eiri had not been, but…did that constitute him being in love? He did care about Ryuichi--very much in fact. His feelings for the man went way beyond that of just mere friendship. Despite what Ryuichi did to him, Shuichi could not imagine his life without him, but did that mean that he loved him? Had he ever loved him? Or had he just drowned his broken heart and sorrow in a childhood crush, fool himself into believing he felt more for this man than he actually did because the one man he’d wanted a future with wanted nothing to do with him?

“I-I don’t know,” he admitted truthfully.

One glimpse at Shuichi’s face had Eiri’s fury at Shuichi vague responses ebbed away. Shuichi looked miserable. Maybe this really was not as easy as he wanted it to be. One of Shuichi’s main flaws was that he was loyal almost to a fault. So even though Shuichi knew he should end it with Sakuma, he made a promise, a vow, and Shuichi probably felt strongly about those vows, despite the betrayal. He wished other people were more like that.

Eiri laced their fingers together and gave the smaller hand a gentle squeeze.

Shuichi turned towards him and smiled.

Eiri returned that smile, then cupped Shuichi’s cheek with his free hand.

Shuichi leaned into the warm touch. Turning his head, his planted a chaste kiss on the palm of Eiri’s hand. Still smiling, he leaned against Eiri’s side, hugging his other arm around the arm that held fast to his hand. Shuichi was not sure about anything right now. Why was this so hard, even though he knew what he should do?

“Will you come back to Tokyo with me?” Eiri whispered, his voice breaking through the silence.

Shuichi tensed.

“Will you give us another chance?”

“I…Eiri,” Shuichi whispered. “I…”

With a growl, Eiri flung Shuichi from his side, which quickly grew cold, and jumped to his feet. “How the bloody hell could this be such a difficult question?” Eiri bellowed as he stalked back and forth across the room in an air of intense fury.

Righting himself, Shuichi cowered into the corner of the sofa furthest away from the man, his trembling body curled into a tight ball. Tears streamed continuously down his cheeks. His quiet sobs were muffled further by the shaking hands clasped before his quivering mouth.

Hearing the one, he loved crying pitifully just sprinkled salt on an open wound. “Yes or no Shuichi!”

Shuichi jumped reflexively at the hard tone with a yelp. He gazed at Eiri through tears that stung his eyes and blurred his vision. His ineptitude at being able to give Eiri an answer sent a tsunami wave of guilt ripping through him, but more so because of the pain and hurt that he must be making his beloved feel. He could not bear to gaze into those gorgeous eyes and that sexy face that he had fallen in love with on that night one year ago.

“I can’t believe you’d even consider returning to that bastard!” Eiri glowered at the smaller man huddled on the couch. “How the hell can you still feel any shred of loyalty to him?!”

Timidly, Shuichi made to open his mouth, though he was unsure what he was going to say. He had no defense or any excuse for his inability to come to a decision, but before he could complete the movement, Eiri beat him to it.

“And don’t give me that crap about him ‘being your husband’!”

Shuichi flinched. He was not sure if it was in reaction to Eiri’s violent tone or guilt over having his own words thrown back at him.

“Because if that’s your only excuse then you don’t have a fucking leg to stand on!”

Shuichi had nothing to say to that. He was not sure what to say period. But something about what Eiri said sent a painful jolt through his heart.

“Do you think he gave a damn about those promises you made to each other?” Eiri yelled. His face turned red. “Do you think he was thinking of you while he was fucking my brother? Why do you stay with a man who obviously doesn’t give a damn about you?”

Shuichi screwed his eyes shut and pressed his hands over his ears. No more, he thought crying in earnest. No more!

But Eiri was doing well and ignorant of the turmoil Shuichi was going through. “Why the hell do you think he pulled out of the tour at the last minute?” Eiri indicated the laptop sitting idle on the coffee table. “Why don’t you take another look if you forgot?”

Shuichi did not want to hear anymore. His head was spinning and his chest hurt. “Stop it,” he sobbed silently.

“Because he was ‘sick’?” Eiri mocked, not hearing Shuichi’s plea.

“Stop it,” Shuichi repeated through his tears.

“He looked perfectly healthy to me when he had his tongue down my little brother’s throat!”

Something in Shuichi snapped. “I said stop it,” the singer shouted.

Eiri gaped at his burgundy haired wonder. He blinked stupidly; his angry words choked out of him. “Shuichi?” he called softly in surprise.

Sobbing miserably and weeping a torrent of tears, Shuichi slowly unfurled himself from the couch and carefully got to his feet. With dull red hazel eyes red rimmed and bloodshot from crying and with a runny nose, Shuichi glared at the doctorate student. “Here you are bad mouthing Ryu for being the world’s worst partner LIKE YOU HAVE A BLOODY LEG TO STAND ON,” he cried angrily throwing Eiri’s words back at him. He had the privilege of seeing the other man flinch. Sniffling, he continued. “I know better than you what kind of man he is! And you’re not any better than him!”

Eiri could do nothing more than stare at Shuichi in shock, taken aback by his outburst.

“YOU ABANDONED ME FIRST,” Shuichi yelled his voice thick with tears.

The wannabe author was at a loss for words, too shocked by the venom in his little lover’s voice.

“So, I gotta choose, huh?” Shuichi asked, his voice leveling off. He snorted at the irony. “What a choice,” he laughed.

Eiri was not sure what hurt the most: the words being thrown at him or the realization that he had hurt Shuichi worse than he could ever have imagined.

“My first love who dumped me because he was ‘too afraid’ to commit or my current lover who can’t seem to remember WHERE TO DOCK HIS FUCKING SHIP!” With tears streaming down a face twisted with grief and torment, he stood in the middle of the living room, panting under the effort of juggling his emotions.

Eiri was flabbergasted. He was beyond words, beyond thoughts, beyond anything even remotely rational. He could only stare dumbfounded at his hysterical lover. Was he responsible for this? Had he driven Shuichi this far? An overcoat of guilt was draped upon his body as snuggly as his fair skin. What had he done? He took a step forward and held out his hand towards Shuichi. “Shu-”

Shuichi recoiled violently.

Eiri’s heart gave a painful lurch. “Shuichi,” he whispered, hurt by Shuichi’s denial.

Shaking his head, Shuichi held out a hand to ward the blond god away. He took a step back, then another and another. With a sob, Shuichi tore into the bathroom and slammed the door closed behind him.

Eiri watched the bathroom door sadly. What had he done?

 

* * *

 

**An Hour Later**

He did not envy Shuichi. To him it appeared to be a cut and dry case, but he was not the one who had to make the choice. If he were Shuichi, he honestly had no idea what he would do. He would like to say he would kick Sakuma’s two-timing ass to the curb, but truthfully, he could not say with absolute certainty that this was what he would do. You can brag all you want about what you would do in any given situation, but unless you have been in that situation before or at least in a similar one, all you really have are speculations and assumptions. He knew that, but he had not really understood it until an hour ago when he made a complete ass out of himself.

Eiri watched the amber liquid hypnotically as it sloshed around in the glass. The rapid rotation of the alcohol created a vortex into which was the eye. Stilling his hand, he lifted the half glass to his lips and drained it of its contents. He grimaced as the alcohol burned its way down his throat.

He exhaled heavily through his nose as his head dropped back against the top of the armchair.

Eiri swung his arm out to the side over the side table and set his now empty glass down on the white square napkin he was using as a costar. A water ring entrenched the inside of the napkin.

Lifting his hand up, he stared at his fingers wet with condensation. Rubbing his middle finger and thumb together, he watched as a droplet of water rolled in spurts down and around his finger to settle into a pool in the webbing between his fingers.

Hazel eyes golden like the sun turned to the door on the far side of the room. In the dimly lit suite, the sliver of light shinning out from under the closed bathroom door was a beacon of light, but instead of welcoming Eiri’s presence, though, it was a deterrent warning him away. His heart ached to know that Shuichi had thrown up that barrier between them.

Depressed and drowning in a sea of guilt, his hand dropped into his lap and the corners of his lips turned down. Reluctantly, he tore his gaze from the bathroom door and stared off into a shadow-hidden corner blankly, trying not to think of what could happen when the bathroom door opened.

He had forced Shuichi into making a decision. Shuichi could stay with a man who had proven repeatedly he could not be trusted, which meant that he would lose Shuichi forever. Or, Shuichi could walk away from the man who could not take his vows seriously and give Eiri a second chance. Of course, there was one other choice Shuichi could make and after what Eiri spewed out earlier, he could not blame the burgundy haired pop star if he did walk away. His heart lurched painfully at the mere possibility. If Shuichi made the decision to return to Japan without him, he would never be able to forgive himself. Because he let his emotions get the better of him, he might just lose the love of his life forever. Cursing his own stupidity, Eiri squeezed his eyes shut and dropped his head forward then slammed it back with a snap of his neck. The thick cushion kept him from hurting himself, much to his chagrin. He raked his fingernails over the arms of the chair, mentally berating himself.

With tears burning his eyes and his throat closed over a sob, Eiri took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he tried to calm himself down. He forced himself to relax and collapsed into the armchair. Clearing his mind, he tried not to think of anything.

He was not sure how long he stayed like that when into the silence broke a small timid voice.

“Yuki.”

Startled, Eiri’s eyes snapped open. He raised his head and turned towards the sound of the voice. Growing wide eyed, Eiri scrambled out of the chair. “Shuichi,” he whispered. He watched anxiously with his heart in his throat as the vocalist stepped barefoot out of the bathroom and into the living room wrapped in a white terrycloth bathrobe that looked like it was several sizes too large. Tan skin glistened. Burgundy hair appeared black, as it lay plastered to the side of Shuichi’s head.

Those large dark eyes darted around the room. They studied the floor. They glanced out the sliding doors and into the night. They were anywhere but on Eiri. Those small hands with the slender, nimble fingers were clasped together so tightly the knuckles were white. Then the next second he was wringing his hands before holding them still again.

Cautiously, Eiri gulped and took a step toward his little lover. “Shuichi,” he called. Please say something, he pleaded. His heart was thumping so loudly it was a wonder Shuichi did not say something. His mouth had gone dry. A fine trembling shook his entire body.

Finally, Shuichi stopped fidgeting. His lithe body hidden under the large robe grew still. His hands fell loosely to his sides, swinging freely and slowly his head turned towards Eiri. Amethyst eyes free of their mask stared across the twilight strung room at Eiri. Despite the lasting effects of having been crying for the past hour or so, Shuichi’s eyes gleamed with a renewed light. Confidence.

That was when Eiri knew. Shuichi had made his decision.

“Yuki,” Shuichi stated calmly, his voice barely above a whisper. He stared pointedly into Eiri’s eyes.

Gulping, Eiri licked dry lips and took a deep trembling breath. His hands clenched into fists then relaxed. They itched to reach out and pull Shuichi into his arms. He had to fight the urge to drop to his knees before the man in a kowtow position and beg for his forgiveness. He loved Shuichi, had from the moment he looked across the packed nightclub and watched him sauntering across the stage. And it was that unexpected feeling that sent Eiri running away in fright.

It was a cop out to confess to a traumatic event in one’s past that was keeping you from following where your heart was trying to lead you. Unfortunately, he was that fool and it cost him his chance at love. He just hoped his big mouth had not cost him this final chance at Shuichi. He would never be able to forgive himself if it had, because he knew if he was turned down, if his affections were refused then that was it. He would never get another shot. Three strikes and you are out.

As he waited, unsure what to expect, the silence stretched. Silence had never bothered Eiri before. He liked peace and quiet. Solitude suited him the best. He preferred staying at home reading a good book on a Friday night to going out. Being forced into going to a party or get together of some sort was the worst. He was never one to make small talk, but Eiri found himself beginning to grow fidgety as the silence continued to expand around them. He had never once felt the need to shatter the silence before now. He normally felt comforted by it, but not this time. Eiri made to open his mouth, not really sure what he was going to say, if he could force his brain and larynx to synchronize properly first, but before he could, Shuichi spoke up.

“Let me say something, okay?” the vocalist asked.

Eiri started to nod.

“Can you just--just listen to me for a second?”

“Of course,” Eiri replied softly.

For the first time in over an hour, a smile transformed Shuichi’s face.

Cute, Eiri thought unconsciously, but the smile vanished as Shuichi dropped his head. Eiri watched him as a nauseous feeling in the pit of his stomach stirred to life. He could not remember feeling this nervous before. It was the feeling you get on the first day of school or when you ask that special someone to spend the rest of his or her life with you.

Shuichi could not stop Eiri’s angry remarks from echoing through his head. Unfortunately, Eiri was right. He did not have “a fucking leg to stand on”, because as many times as he went over everything in his head, that was the only excuse he had to give. Eiri had asked him why he stayed with a man who did not give “a damn about those promises” they made to each other.

Two men cannot legally get married in Japan, unfortunately, but they can have a commitment ceremony and that is what Ryuichi and he had in a private ceremony last month. Ryuichi had wanted to prove that he had no intention of doing anything that would threaten their relationship or Shuichi’s trust in him again. It was those promises they made to each other before the minister, God and their family and friends that made Shuichi uncertain about what he should do. He promised to stay with Ryuichi until death do they part, forsaking all others and Shuichi took his vows very seriously, even if his partner did not and it was that realization that made what Eiri said to him earlier that much harder to listen to. What had upset Shuichi the most about Eiri’s rant earlier was the hard reality that everything he spewed out in his angry tirade was the absolute truth. Everything.

Shuichi could not help but question himself. Was something wrong with him? Was he in some way responsible for Ryuichi’s wandering eye? Had he not been a good enough boyfriend and husband? Was he unable to completely satisfy Ryuichi in bed? People had always told him that he tended to talk too much. Had his blathering gotten on Ryuichi’s nerves? Had he done something to drive Ryuichi into the arms of Eiri’s younger brother? Was it his fault that Ryuichi had been unfaithful?

Eiri watched the flicker of emotion flash across Shuichi’s face. He wished he could see into the boy’s head. He frowned as he watched Shuichi’s face twist into an ugly mask of grief, misery and guilt. His heart ached to see that solemn expression on his beloved’s face. The urge to wipe that unbecoming expression off Shuichi’s face lured Eiri around the coffee table and across the expanse that separated them. He stopped before Shuichi and gazed down into eyes clouded over. Emotion swirled like a gathering storm in them.

Reaching out, Eiri tapped Shuichi under the chin. “Hey, hey,” Eiri called softly, trying to gain the boys attention. “What’s going on in that empty head of yours, huh?” he asked in a light tone.

“Nothing,” Shuichi replied automatically with no thought.

Eiri cocked an eyebrow. “Got that right,” he snorted in amusement.

“Huh?” With a blink, Shuichi lifted his head and gazed at the author in confusion. “What?”

Chuckling, Eiri shook his head.

He had missed something, Shuichi knew he had. He just was not sure what. Shuichi’s brows drew together.

Seeing Shuichi unable to fathom what had apparently gone right over his burgundy head, Eiri cinched Shuichi’s chin, still chuckling. Stooping, he pressed his lips against the boy’s forehead. When he pulled back, he met Shuichi’s wide-eyed startled expression. Pleased with the result his actions had yielded, he let go of Shuichi’s chin. He gently brushed his knuckles up Shuichi’s cheek. Instantly, the startled expression softened.

Shuichi closed his eyes and savored the delicious shiver that raced through his body. He drew in a trembling breath and let out a deep, contented sigh. “Yuki,” he breathed.

“Shuichi,” Eiri responded.

A hot blush colored Shuichi’s cheeks. Feeling strangely shy all of a sudden, he peered out from half laden eyes at Eiri. Biting back an embarrassed grin, he dropped his head to hide the involuntary response Eiri seemed to be able to elicit from him.

Eiri chuckled. He is so cute, he thought again as he moved to cup Shuichi’s cheek.

Shuichi rubbed his head against the cool touch of Eiri’s hand.

“So,” Eiri drawled, brushing his thumb in lazy circles under Shuichi’s eye.

Heaving a sigh, Shuichi reached up with his left hand and grasped Eiri’s hand.

Eiri’s eyes flickered quickly to the hand now holding his.

Shuichi searched those hazel eyes clouded over in confusion and fright and smiled.

Returning the smile uncertainly, Eiri fingered a damp lock behind the singer’s ear with his free hand.

Gently, Shuichi peeled Eiri’s hand from his face. He held the older man’s hands firmly. Lowering his head, he stared at the floor beneath his bare feet.

Here it comes, Eiri thought feeling nauseous all of a sudden.

Shuichi once again tried to gather his thoughts. He hoped Eiri did not hate him after he told him what he had to tell him. “Yuki?”

Gulping, Eiri lightly squeezed Shuichi’s hand clasped within his.

“I love you so much,” Shuichi confessed.

A tender half smile crossed Eiri’s face. He was not sure whether to rejoice at the admission or fear for the worst.

Shuichi lifted his head and stared fixedly into those depthless orbs he had fallen in love with on that night one year ago. “And…I want to be with you.” He turned red after the words left his mouth.

The half smile grew into a shit-eating grin. With his free hand, Eiri reached out for the singer. He thought of poor Sakuma who would be landing at Lester B. Pearson International Airport anytime now, if he had not already. Told you I would make him mine, he thought smugly. But that self-satisfaction was short lived when Shuichi shied away from his hand. His heart lurched painfully. “Shuichi?” Eiri called. Shuichi’s rejection ripped through his heart. Wha-?”

Shuichi shook his head.

Eiri’s heart dropped into his stomach…

“But I can’t.”

…and shattered.

“Not yet at least.”

Eiri’s ears perked up. The tiniest flicker of hope fluttered to life.

“I hate you for what you said,” Shuichi told him. His tone was neither accusatory nor hateful. But neither was it stated matter-of-fact. The hurt he felt at the abuse he had suffered at the hand off the man who claimed to love him was clearly conveyed though.

Guilt ate away at Eiri.

Shuichi focused his gaze on Eiri. “You made me feel like an idiot for wanting to believe in my husband,” he accused. His voice wavered slightly but remained hard.

“That wasn’t my intention,” Eiri admitted in an apologetic tone.

Shuichi gave Eiri a small smile. “I know.”

Maybe not all was lost after all. That tiny flame started to grow.

Eiri found himself returning the smile almost unconsciously.

He regretted the hard words he spit at Shuichi earlier only in so much as they caused him so much pain. Eiri wanted Shuichi to always be smiling, to always be happy and remain the carefree, innocent guy he met the previous year. But as guilty as Eiri felt for being the one responsible for wiping that sensuous smile from Shuichi’s face, his long angry speech had been a necessary evil. Though in hindsight he could have gone a little easier on the vocalist. But on the other hand, if he had not been so “forward” and “open” there was no telling where they would be right now.

The falling smile on Shuichi’s face caught Eiri’s eye.

Shuichi dropped his gaze, his brow furrowed in thought.

Worry gnawed at Eiri’s heels. Doubt flowed through his veins. He suddenly worried that he had misunderstood Shuichi and their chances. That flame flickered as a breeze brushed by it. It was on the verge of being put out forever.

It was now or never, Shuichi thought, trying to psych himself up. Inhaling deeply, he blinked long and slow. Lifting his gaze, he stared at the man watching him with guarded expectation. “Eiri.”

That determined glint was there once again, though this time it was somewhat subdued, Eiri noticed. His heart beating erratically, Eiri’s nervousness grew and his fear rose. He was not sure what to expect. Dozens of different emotions and thoughts swirled through him.

“Before, you asked me to give ‘us’ another chance. You asked me to return to Japan with you.”

Eiri did not like where this was going.

Shuichi dropped his head, momentarily lost in thought. “But before I can do that, there’s something that I must do,” Shuichi confessed.

Eiri’s heart thumped heavily in his chest.

“I-I must…I have to ask him…that is…I…”

Even through Shuichi’s sputterings, Eiri knew what the boy was trying to say. He was not happy about it, but he guessed it was inevitable.

Shuichi paused to gather his thoughts. He was afraid of what Eiri’s reaction to his decision was going to be. “I’m sorry Eiri, but before I can decide anything, I need to talk to Ryu.” He searched Eiri’s face closely.

Eiri sighed. He took comfort in the fact that Shuichi had not rejected his affections. Yet, he added. “I never liked that guy,” Eiri muttered.

Shuichi blinked. “Yuki?”

“Do what you must,” he said reluctantly.

A grin split Shuichi’s face. “Thank you Eiri.”

Eiri smirked. He tugged the hand still clasped lightly within his, pulling Shuichi towards him. Wrapping his free arm around the boy’s tiny waist, Eiri held him firmly against him. Letting go of Shuichi’s hand, he cupped the hot, red cheek. “You’re going to owe me big time though,” he told Shuichi suggestively.

Shuichi blushed fiercely. He dropped his gaze in embarrassment. “Then…”

“Hm?” Eiri cocked an eyebrow.

If possible, Shuichi’s face grew even redder. He bit his lip. Did he have the right to ask this of him? “Then that’s two I owe you.”

“Two, huh?”

“…Yuki?”

“Hm?”

Shuichi lifted his head and gazed deeply into the golden eyes watching him. “Can I ask a favor of you? I need…I need you to do something for me.”

Eiri dropped his brows. A favor? Where was he going with this? What was he thinking?

 

* * *

 

It was nearing midnight when a cab pulled up in front of the Crowne Plaza Hotel. The man inside handed the cab driver a wad of cash. Gathering his bag, he opened the cab door and stepping out onto the sidewalk, shut the door behind him. As the cab pulled carefully into traffic, the man tipped his head back and glanced up at the hotel.   
“Shuichi,” he whispered.

 

**…To Be Continued…**


	5. Operation Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically, Ryuichi gets his ass served to him.

**Chapter 5: Operation Confession**

**Midnight - Crowne Plaza Hotel, Shuichi’s Suite - Toronto**

The night was warm but a cool breeze stirred across the region. Fingering the sheer curtains, and slapping together playfully the vertical blinds, which had been opened during the course of the night, the breeze violated the twilight strewn suite. A stray cloud sailed passed the pale moon, momentarily obscuring her sight. When the loiterer finally moved on, the moonlight illuminated a fair-skinned man standing on the balcony leaning back against the sliding glass doors, a smoldering cigarette in his hand. Gray tendrils of smoke curled into the night air and vanished.

Eiri stared out over the city, watching the twinkling sea of lights that stretched out into the distant horizon and listened to the sound of traffic. Somewhere out there was Ryuichi Sakuma. Eiri snarled in disgust as the realization hit him. He took a deep drag from his cigarette. Flicking off the ashes gathering on the end, he tipped his head back and with a sigh, exhaled a cloud of smoke into the warm night air. With smoke trailing after him, Eiri pushed off the door and stepped through the curtains into the suite. Rounding the armchair, he leaned over and ground the cigarette butt in the ashtray sitting besides Shuichi’s laptop computer. Straightening, Eiri ran his fingers through his damp hair and laced them together behind his head. He stared blankly at the closed bedroom door.

If it was anyone else who had asked, he would not have agreed to such a cowardly plan, but it was not anyone else; it was Shuichi. Besides, he added with an evil smirk, it would be so much fun to mess with Sakuma’s empty head. He chuckled lightly. This was going to be so much fun.

Taking a deep breath, Eiri exhaled a heavy sigh. Dropping his arms, he frowned. He wondered, though, if Shuichi was truly all right with this.

 

* * *

 

Curled on his side on the far end of the queen-sized bed, Shuichi stared out the window into the still night, but he ignored Heaven’s lights shinning brightly high above in the Great Beyond. He did not see the lights of the city or the horizon hidden in shadow.

He gave a start, his body jerking in reaction as he heard the bedroom door open with what sounded to him like an explosion. Unfolding his body, groaning as his stiffened limbs protested, he glanced over his shoulder and watched as Eiri stepped into the bedroom and shut the door firmly behind him.

“Hey,” Eiri greeted him.

Shuichi blushed hotly as he drank in the sight of Eiri’s scantily clad body. In his embarrassment, he wanted to look away, but found he could not tear his gaze away from the sight. Eiri’s hair, damp from his shower, was slicked back from his face. A white towel hung draped around his wide, square, naked shoulders. Shuichi’s breath quickened as his gaze slowly roamed down a well toned, slightly muscular chest. He licked his lips as he followed a line of dark hair starting at Eiri’s navel that trailed down his abdomen and vanished under red boxers that Shuichi could clearly see through the undone fly of Eiri’s jeans.

“Like what you see?” Eiri teased as he rounded the bed.

Shuichi’s blush flared hotter in response.

Eiri chuckled. He grabbed the towel from around his neck and sliding it off, tossed it nonchalant onto the foot of the bed next to his discarded button up shirt.

Embarrassed to the nth degree, Shuichi turned onto his side and curled into a snug ball, pulling his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around the pillow. He returned his attention back out the window, trying to ignore the heated gaze on him.

Loving the reactions he could get out of the young vocalist, Eiri lowered himself onto the mattress.

A serious expression slipped onto his face. He cast a quick look out of the corner of his eye towards Shuichi. Those natural large amethyst eyes of Shuichi’s that were staring out the window had a vacant, faraway expression to them. Eiri wondered, not for the first time, what the burgundy haired wonder was thinking. Facing forward, Eiri doubled over and stared down at his hands clasped between his knees. His face was carefully void of any expression.

Silence lapsed between them as the two men each lost themselves to their thoughts.

After what seemed like an eternity, but was in actuality only a handful of seconds, Eiri spoke up. “Hey.”

Shuichi made no indication he heard him.

Eiri rubbed his hands together, feeling nervous for some inexplicable reason. “Are you sure about this?” he asked in a whispered tone. He held his hands still between his knees. There was no immediate response from Shuichi or a reaction of any kind indicating he was even listening. “Shuichi?”

“No.”

Eiri blinked. He closed his open mouth. Part of him had expected that answer, but it did not soften the astonishment. After all, this was Shuichi’s plan.

_“Other than Mr. Seguchi, you’re the only one who has any chance of getting the truth out of him,”_ is what Shuichi told him after he’d laid out his plan earlier.

Damn that brat and his flamboyant wiles. Shuichi had somehow been able to wrap Eiri around his little finger and he knew it. All Shuichi had to do was pout those full, luscious lips, bat those tear filled puppy dog eyes and tilt his head to the side and he had Eiri, and probably every other guy in the world, at his every beck and call.

_“Why?”_ Eiri had questioned in return.

Shuichi had then answered bluntly, _“Because he hates you.”_

If that was not reason enough, Eiri was not sure what was.

“But it’s the only way.” Shuichi’s voice was so soft that Eiri had a difficult time hearing him.

When Eiri had asked him why such an elaborate plan, Shuichi had answered with, _“I’ll never get the whole truth about him and your brother out of him. He lied to my face seven months ago. What’s to stop him from doing the same this time?”_

Eiri glanced over his shoulder at Shuichi. A swell of sadness rose up in him as he took in the troubled look on Shuichi’s face. Eiri disliked seeing Shuichi so distraught. The boy deserved so much more.

Sitting up, Eiri reached out a hand toward the boy huddled in a white anime convention tour t-shirt and dark blue boxer shorts. He was not sure what, if anything, he could do for the distressed boy, but he had to do something to take away such an unbecoming expression.

But something caught his attention before he could do anything.

He paused his forward motion, his hand frozen idiotically in midair and listened intently. He was not completely sure if he had actually heard something or if he had imagined it. He felt movement besides him.

“Yuki?” Shuichi asked in a hushed, fear-lined voice. He had heard it too.

Eiri patted the air between them. “Stay here,” he ordered.

“But-!”

Eiri glanced over his shoulder at Shuichi and when he saw the panic and fright shimmering in those bejeweled orbs, he reached out for the hand that belonged to them and held it gently clasped within his own. His gaze unconsciously took in Shuichi’s other hand resting on the bed besides him and smirked. Slowly raising his head, he locked eyes with Shuichi and lifting their joined hands, pressed a lingering, but chaste kiss on the back of Shuichi’s hand. When he heard Shuichi’s quick indrawn breath and saw the rosy tint color his cheeks, Eiri chuckled lightly.

Reluctantly, he let go of Shuichi’s hand and stood up.

“Be careful,” Shuichi called after him. He wanted desperately to call Eiri back. He was so scared that something would happen to him.

Eiri glanced back and smiled. “I will,” he promised.

Shuichi kept his eyes glued to Eiri’s back as the older man stalked like a thief around the bed to the bedroom door. His heart pounded heavily in his chest as he watched as Eiri quietly opened the door.

The room seemed unnaturally silent as Eiri stuck his head out of the bedroom. A cocky grin spread across his face. Crossing his arms over his chest, he propped himself against the doorframe and watched with a smirk on his face as an all too familiar man stepped cautiously into the suite. Speak of the devil, he thought.

 

* * *

 

A shaft of light spilled into the suite from the hallway behind the man, illuminating the beige carpet and two pairs of black boots. The smaller pair had socks stuffed into them. A lamp in the far corner cast a soft glow and elongated the shadows in the room, giving it an ambiance and a slightly creepy feeling all at the same time.

Glancing quickly over his shoulder, Ryuichi searched the hallway behind him and seeing it deserted, stepped into the suite and closed the door behind him, automatically locking it, more out of habit than anything. The room was thrown into dim twilight with the absence of the bright hallway light. He was not sure why, but he felt like an intruder, as if he should not be here, which was ridiculous, because he had every right to be here. Shuichi was his husband after all.

As his eyes grew accustomed to the gloomy lighting, Ryuichi gazed about the suite, taking in the modern contemporary furniture. For what it was, it was all right. Just all right. He would not have chosen it voluntarily. It was more of a style his grandmother would like.

His eyes continued.

Blackout curtains and the vertical blinds were drawn back and a cool breeze whispered through the open balcony doors, rustling the sheer curtains. He could see the clear night sky and the pale moon. It was a beautiful night.

As he continued to gaze about the room, his eyes were drawn to the coffee table where Shuichi’s laptop sat. The little green light was on, indicating that it was on, but the screen was dark. Shuichi must have been using it earlier and forgot to turn it off. For a split second, he felt the icy grip of panic, but brushed it aside with a laugh. But the uneasy feeling did not vanish completely, especially when his eyes traveled to the half-filled ashtray and the empty cigarette wrapper besides the laptop.

“Yuki,” he growled, deliberately leaving off any honorific.

“Sakuma,” Eiri retorted in amusement.

In the bedroom, Shuichi gasped. His eyes went wide. Ryuichi was here. Shuichi wrapped his arms around his churning stomach and dropped forward, burying his face in his lap. He suddenly felt sick.

Startled, Ryuichi spun around and saw the bane of his existence. Just the sight of this man nearly sent Ryuichi into a rage. “You,” he spit.

Shuichi jumped as he heard Ryuichi’s furious curse. Lifting his head, he watched as Eiri dropped his arms and pushed away from the doorframe.

Eiri stepped into the dim light of the living room, shutting the door softly behind him. He was fully aware of how his appearance would be taken by his rival and that was half the fun.

Swinging his legs out from under him, Shuichi hugged his knees to his chest.

Ryuichi was able to catch a quick glance over Eiri’s broad, naked shoulder of movement behind him in the shadow-hidden room. Shuichi. He turned back to the blond haired man and met his smiling, golden hazel eyes and that damn cocky grin. If that bastard so much as touched a hair on Shuichi’s head…!

Eiri smirked as he watched the flicker of emotions flash across the older singer’s face.

“Bastard,” Ryuichi hissed.

Eiri’s expression changed in an instant. “You have some nerve showing your face here,” he told the singer in an even voice.

Sneering in disgust, Ryuichi squeezed his clenched hands and gritted his teeth so tightly; his jaw was beginning to ache. “Look who’s talking,” he barked.

“I think you ought to leave.” It would keep Eiri from beating the crap out of Sakuma for hurting Shuichi. He had just wanted Sakuma here so he could toss the fact that he had won in the man’s face.

Ryuichi could not believe what he just heard. This man had a lot of nerve. “I think it’s you who should leave,” he shot back.

“I can’t do that,” Eiri replied with a sly smirk.

“He’s my husband,” Ryuichi cried angrily.

“Was you mean,” Eiri corrected calmly.

And it begins, Shuichi thought sadly, as the two men continued bickering. He collapsed onto his side, staring blankly at the door. A stray tear rolled down his cheek, vanishing into the comforter. Squeezing his eyes shut against the sudden onslaught of stinging tears that blurred his eyes, Shuichi sobbed quietly. What did it mean when it hurt more to think about what could have been then what was?

Ryuichi’s heart gave a painful lurch. “What are talking about?” he demanded, a little breathless.

“I told you,” Eiri shrugged nonchalant. “You had your chance and you blew it. Now, it’s my turn.”

Ryuichi growled. “Drop dead! Shuichi’s mine!”

“Not anymore he’s not.”

“What did you say?” Ryuichi hissed.

Eiri tipped his head towards the coffee table. “They say a picture is worth a thousand words.”

Confused, Ryuichi glanced down at the black laptop computer, then back at Eiri and tried to ignore the sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Go ahead,” Eiri invited with a wave.

Gulping, Ryuichi reached out and pressed the spacebar on the keyboard with a heavy feeling of dread. As he waited for the computer to wake up, he watched the smug expression on his rival’s face. It caused his stomach to twist and lurch. Sweating profusely, his heart pounding, Ryuichi reluctantly clicked on Shuichi’s username.

What he saw as Shuichi’s desktop appeared on the screen stopped his heart cold. The color drained from his face. Lightheaded, the room swam dizzily around him.

“How?” he breathed as he stared glassy eyed at the photo on the screen.

With a shaking hand, Ryuichi clicked on photo after photo. There were at least two dozen before he began to feel sick to his stomach. Each photograph was the same. They showed him in the arms of a man that was definitely not the man he’d pledged to have and to hold, to death do he part mere weeks ago. This did not make any sense!

Ryuichi’s legs gave out underneath him and he collapsed onto the armchair behind him. He brought a trembling hand to his face. This was not happening!

“I heard he threw quiet a temper tantrum when he saw these,” Eiri said smugly. “Trashed his hotel room.”

Ryuichi snapped out of his daze and turned his head sharply to glare at Eiri in hatred. “You!”

“Wasn’t me,” Eiri denied, shaking his head.

“Liar!”

Eiri shrugged. “Believe what you will, Sakuma, but unfortunately I had nothing to do with that e-mail.” Though he would love to take credit. “Though,” he continued, “I can think of several people who could have.” He did not bother to mention that one of those “several people” could be none other then Shuichi himself.

Ryuichi said nothing, just seethed in quiet fury.

“Tohma maybe,” Eiri continued. In all honesty, he highly doubted his brother-in-law was behind this, but he would not put it past the man. “Or, maybe, hmmm…my brother perhaps?” he suggested cruelly.

Ryuichi instantly jumped to his feet. “He would never-!” Who did this guy think he was?

Oo! If looks could kill…! Eiri smirked. He could not remember having such fun in his entire life. “Really.”

“Leave Tatsuha out of this!”

“I can’t do that,” Eiri said cockily. Where would the fun be in that?

Ryuichi hissed. His face was an angry red.

Eiri’s grin widened. “He’s part of this.”

“Tatsuha has nothing to do with this!”

Now Eiri was getting annoyed. “Tatsuha has everything to do with this,” he snapped. How stupid could one person be? This is probably what got Sakuma into this mess in the first place.

Tears stun Ryuichi’s eyes. As much as he tried to deny it, a part of him was starting to believe Eiri’s accusation. Just thinking that Tatsuha would do this to him, would betray him like this was almost too much to bear. It sent a shooting pain through his heart. Maybe he’d already known. It could be the reason why he hadn’t picked up the phone when Tatsuha called before he’d left home.

No! Ryuichi shook away those devilish thoughts. What was he thinking? Tatsuha would not do this. He wouldn’t! “He loves me! He’d never…,” Ryuichi’s protest dwindled into tears. “He’d never…!”

Eiri watched his rival sadly. He almost felt sorry for the guy...almost. “How can you be so sure?” he asked softly. “If Shuichi saw pictures of you and my brother together, concrete proof that you’re cheating on him, he’d dump you so fast you wouldn’t know your ass from a hole in the ground and my stupid brother would have you all to himself.” It was the only logical solution. It was not rocket science. If it were true, anyway. He was not so sure this was what happened, though. He was also not sure if he believed it or if he was just saying it to be mean.

Lies! Lies! Ryuichi shook his head. He was not listening! It was all lies! They could make it work. It was easy. First, he would apologize, then Shuichi would forgive him and finally, the two of them would spend the rest of their lives living happily ever after. It was simple. Besides, Tatsuha and he had talked about this and Tatsuha understood. He knew that their relationship had nothing to do with his marriage to Shuichi. As much as Ryuichi loved his husband, he also cared a great deal for Tatsuha. To him, Tatsuha was much more than a fling or a lover. He would never be second to Shuichi. Never. Tatsuha knew this and he would never do something so low and underhanded. “Tatsuha loves me,” Ryuichi shouted more to himself than anything.

Eiri leaned against the back of the couch. “You say my brother loves you.”

“He does!”

“And that’s precisely why he would do something like this.”

Ryuichi shook his head vigorously. “He wouldn’t,” he protested. It sounded weak even to him.

Eiri knew from experience that a lover never wanted to be just a lover. They wanted more. They wanted to be more. And knowing Tatsuha like he did, his younger brother would never be completely happy playing second string and no matter what Sakuma may say or think, to Tatsuha, Shuichi was a threat which gave his brother ample motive to e-mail Shuichi those incrementing photographs.

“He wouldn’t,” Ryuichi repeated, his voice barely that of a whisper.

“Why? You know as well as I do that Tatsuha-”

Ryuichi sliced his hand through the air. “No,” he cried, tears pouring down his face. “Tatsuha would never…! He’d…”

“Why not?”

Ryuichi could only shake his head in continued denial. He felt numb. His stomach was doing summersaults. His head hurt and his heart ached. All he wanted was to get as far away from Eiri as he could. He did not like any of this.

“You’re not even his only lover, you know that right? He usually has about half a dozen at one time and he tells all of them that he loves them. That’s how he’s able to get them into bed.” Eiri didn’t even have to exaggerate that. It was the truth. Tatsuha was truly something else.

Ryuichi covered his ears, screwed his eyes shut and pursed his lips together.

“You’re the Ryuichi Sakuma, legendary lead singer of Nittle Grasper after all. I don’t think I need to say anything more than that.”

“You’re wrong.”

Eiri sighed. “Look, I’ve had my share of lovers with their two heads: one on their heads and the other in my wallet. And my brother has been your biggest fan for as far back as I can remember. You cannot tell me that its never crossed your mind. A seventeen year old having a sexual relationship with a thirty-something year old? Come on.”

Ryuichi growled in frustration. “Shut up!”

In the bedroom, Shuichi jumped, startled by the sudden scream that echoed through the quiet suite.

“I bet he doesn’t even give two fucks about you otherwise.”

“Shut up! Just shut the fuck up! You don’t know a goddamn thing!”

“Then explain it to me,” Eiri snapped angrily.

“You wouldn’t understand!”

“Then make me understand!”

“Fuck you!”

Eiri growled in frustration. “If my brother loves you like you claim, then he must have sent Shuichi those photos!”

Shuichi cringed.

“Never!”

“And why the hell not?”

“Because he would never do this to me! To us!” Ryuichi refused to believe otherwise.

Shuichi went completely still.

He’d been played. He felt like such an idiot.

Shuichi had to admit that part of him enjoyed having Ryuichi and Eiri fighting over him. What was better than having two drop dead sexy men chasing after you and both claiming that they want you? But then reality slapped him upside the head and he’d remember the incriminating evidence of his husband’s continued infidelity he’d received in his email the other day. He had to confess, he’d been hoping that Ryuichi would be able to explain it away. Even though Shuichi knew that if by some miracle Ryuichi was able to come up with some cover story to justify his actions, there was no guarantee that anything would change. Things would continue as they have been. He had voluntarily let himself fall for Ryuichi’s excuses before because the alternative had scared him. But Shuichi was tired of playing pretend. Besides, this time he had nothing to be scared of because this time he had Eiri.

Shuichi could not remember where he’d found Eiri’s shirt or when he had actually slipped into the button up shirt that fit him more like a dress, but he pulled it tightly around him as he tried to keep out the chill that had seeped deep into his bones. He hugged his arms around his middle and dropped his chin to his chest.

He had been hoping that this was just some sick joke. Hoping, but the hard truth was that when confronted with what he had allegedly done, Ryuichi was denying nothing.

Out in the suite, Eiri was beginning to find this whole argument very tedious. “Again. I ask,” he asked in as calm and even a tone as he could manage, “why not? Tatsuha is exactly like I was at his age and if I were him, I would do anything to make sure-”

“He wouldn’t! He’s nothing like you!”

Shuichi could not believe this was happening, but then, is this not what he wanted?

Eiri cocked an eyebrow. “Oh?” That was news to him. “Why?”

Ryuichi snapped. “Because I love him!”

Shuichi’s grip on the shirt slackened. Slowly, his head rose. He stared across the room with eyes having gone wide and blank with shock. As if in slow motion, he unfurled, his arms falling limply to his sides, and swinging his legs off the side of the bed, Shuichi stared down passed the carpet under his bare feet.

Eiri blinked in surprise, shocked speechless at the unexpected confession.

“I’ve always loved him,” Ryuichi sobbed. His voice was thick with tears. “No matter what happens with Shuichi and me, nothing’ll change between Tatsuha and me!” Too late, he realized he said too much.

Shuichi’s shock was beginning to wear off and instead pressure built up within him. His hands clawed into tight balls of fury. His eyes narrowed. He clenched his jaw and pursed his lips. His nostrils flared. This time the tears stinging his eyes were hot and angry.

Ryuichi had forced him to play the part of a fool. He had never felt more like an idiot in his entire life.

Shuichi remembered Ryuichi’s declarations from seven months ago as he had begged and cried for Shuichi’s forgiveness after he was caught red-handed kissing another man. Shuichi will be the first to admit that while he may not have believed everything Ryuichi said to him that day, he had been willing to give him a second chance, which was a lot more than most people would have done. He should have listened to Hiro and Suguru. They’d warned him, but instead of cashing out, he had decided to play on. While in some cases, his gamble would have paid off, this time he had been the biggest loser. He had just thrown away the last year of his life. And for what? A man who could not seem to remember what lock his key fit into.

 

* * *

 

In the suite, Ryuichi went still, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights as a muffled sound echoed in the silence of the suite.

Eiri glanced over his shoulder. His face dropped, going neutral instantly. He scrambled off the sofa.

Ryuichi’s heart started thumping. His breathing was heavy and labored. Ever so slowly, he turned his head towards the sound. His face went white as his worst fears were confirmed. Standing nearly naked in the doorway from which Eiri had come from was Shuichi.

His husband’s hair was mused and sticking on end. The left side of his face was red and creased. Those large, black eyes of his were red rimmed and blood shot, his face pale, his cheeks flushed. A lone tear rolled slowly down Shuichi’s cheek, but the expression on his face was anything but sad. It was a mixture of hurt, anger and betrayal. Ryuichi felt a pain in his heart and a wrenching in his gut. It took everything he had to keep from tearing his gaze away from his husband’s penetrating one.

“Shuichi,” he breathed, taking a step forward. He reached out towards him, silently thinking, Please take my hand, please, as tears flowed freely down his face.

Shuichi saw the regret that was written all over Ryuichi’s face. But for what was he sorry? Being caught or was he truly remorseful for what he did? Either way it was too late, far too late.

Shuichi backed away from the hand Ryuichi held out to him and shook his head. Never again. Because now he knew. Now he knew that going home with Ryuichi almost a year ago had been the biggest mistake of his life. And now it was time to rectify that mistake.

Eiri stepped back from the lovers, intending to say as far away from Dodge as he could.

Shuichi raised a hand to ward off Ryuichi.

A look of hurt crossed Ryuichi’s face. “Shuichi, please,” he pleaded.

“I don’t wanna hear it,” Shuichi said, his voice trembling.

“Please! Shuichi. Just--let me-!”

“No!”

“I know what I did was-”

“Fuck you,” Shuichi spit, his voice becoming stronger.

Ryuichi was startled. Never once had Shuichi spoken to him like this. “Just give me a chance to explain!”

Shuichi shook his head vehemently. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’ve heard it all before. Ryu,” he added mockingly.

“But-!”

“No!” Shuichi stepped out of the bedroom towards the man he pledged to love through the good times and the bad last month. His voice was not the only thing that was becoming stronger.

“Please, Shuichi! I-I never…I never meant to hurt you,” Ryuichi sobbed.

Shuichi clenched his hands into fists, his nails digging half moon trenches into his palm. “Bullshit,” he growled lightly through gritted teeth.

“Shuichi!”

“Ryu.”

“I love you,” Ryuichi whispered.

Eiri snorted.

Shuichi barked a sharp laugh.

Tears flowed after down Ryuichi’s face . A wash of emotions flowed through him, almost as if a dam had cracked inside of him. “I’m so sorry!”

That stopped Shuichi cold. “Sorry?”

All Eiri could think was, “Uh, oh.”

“I never meant for this to happen! I swear to God! Please, just-just give me another chance and-and-!”

Shuichi was living a sense of déjà vu. They had had almost this exact conversation seven months ago. He could not believe what a fool he had been.

Eiri watched as in slow motion Shuichi stalked across the hotel suite towards Ryuichi. Stopping before the man as he continued to plead his case, Shuichi raised his hand. Eiri cringed as time returned to its normal pace just as Shuichi’s hand met Ryuichi’s cheek in a little love tap.

Ryuichi stared blankly at nothing in stunned disbelief. He brought a hand up to his face. Tentatively, he touched it and winced with a hiss.

Infuriated, Shuichi ignored his stinging, throbbing, reddened hand. He could not believe this man! Who did he think he was? “Another chance”? Whom was he kidding? Did Ryuichi think he was an idiot? He had been willing to give Ryuichi the benefit of the doubt once before. He had gone against his own better judgment, ignored the advice from his friends and family and took him back, decided to give him a second chance all because he wanted to believe in him. “-out!”

Ryuichi blinked, turning towards Shuichi. “Shuichi?”

“Get--out,” Shuichi repeated.

Ryuichi stared at his husband in incredulity. “Shuichi.”

“Get out,” Shuichi shouted angrily.

“I’m sorry!”

Shuichi had had enough. The sight of this man was making his stomach queasy. He stalked towards Ryuichi with an air of loathing surrounding him.

Ryuichi’s eyes flashed and he jumped backwards. In his blind haste, he tripped over his own two feet and with a cry, flew backwards and tumbled over the armchair and landed in a painful heap on the floor with a sharp hiss.

Eiri chuckled.

Awkwardly, Ryuichi scrambled to his feet and started to back away unconsciously as Shuichi advanced towards him. “Shuichi,” he tried again. He had to get him to listen!

Shuichi did not want to hear anything this man had to say.

Ryuichi’s throat knotted. “Shuichi,” he croaked. This was not at all going how he imagined. “Please!”

“I can’t take it anymore, Ryu,” Shuichi said in a tight voice. He cleared his throat. He could not appear weak in front of this man. He had to be strong. He could not give in.

“Shu-”

Shuichi chopped his hand through the air. “Save your words because this time you’ve gone too far!”

“I know, just-!”

“I listened to your lies and all your stories.”

“But if you’d just-!”

“You are not half the man you’d like to be!”

Eiri grabbed the doorknob. He twisted it and flung open the door, watching in gleeful excitement as his Shuichi pushed a devastated looking Ryuichi Sakuma out of the room.

Shuichi was blinded briefly by the sudden burst of light, but took it in stride and continued to push the enemy line back.

Ryuichi tried once more as he stepped out in the hall. “If you’d just let me-!”

“Don’t even try to explain yourself because talk is cheap!”

Shuichi chased Ryuichi out into the hall where the older man tripped and collapsed into a heap in the middle of the carpeted hallway.

 

* * *

 

Across the hall in his room, Daisuke glanced up from his laptop with a frown.

“You stupid jerk!”

Daisuke turned towards the door. That sounded like Shuichi.

“Shu, please!”

And that sounded like…Ryuichi?

“If you’d only let me explain!”

“’Explain’? There’s nothing to explain!”

He had never heard Shuichi so angry before. Shuichi was always so happy and carefree and hearing him shouting like this…?

Daisuke suddenly had a very bad feeling.

Sliding off his glasses, he pushed away from the table and crossed the room to the door. He turned the lock, hearing the tumblers shift and slid back the chain. Cracking the door open, he stuck his head out into the hallway. The scene before him had him taken aback. An enraged Shuichi who appeared as if he were dressed in nothing more than a button down shirt that looked as if it would fit five Shuichi’s was glaring down at a cowering, distraught Ryuichi.

“You stayed because I made it so convenient,” he heard Shuichi bellow, his voice thick and his eyes glistening with tears.

Daisuke glanced at Shuichi . He was shocked to hear him shout such accusations.

“…What? Shu! How could…? Why would you…?” Ryuichi’s tongue felt like it had swelled up and his brain had gone dumb. He just could not make anything work. He was at a loss. Did Shuichi really believe that? “How can you say something like that? I love you! I would never-!”

“Don’t try to explain yourself! You’ll never see-!” Shuichi snapped, sobbing.

Ryuichi was stunned beyond words. He could not believe that this was his Shuichi. Did Shuichi truly believe all this? No! It couldn’t be. His Shuichi would never doubt him. Anger flashed through his eyes. “You!”

Daisuke followed Ryuichi’s extended finger. His eyebrows vanished into his hairline. Leaning against the door to Shuichi’s room was Eiri Yuki, dressed in only a pair of jeans that were hanging suspiciously low on his hips and a sly smirk on his face. Now he was doubly confused. What was Eiri Yuki doing here? What did he have to do with anything?

With an innocent expression on his face, Eiri raised an eyebrow.

Shuichi’s foot lashed out and connected with Ryuichi. The man cried out, his face screwed up in pain. Daisuke winced.

“Leave Yuki out of this! This has nothing to do with him!”

Daisuke looked from Shuichi to Eiri and back and had his doubts.

Ryuichi staggered to his feet with an angry scowl on his face. “Nothing to do with him? This has just as much to do with him as it does Tatsuha!”

Daisuke groaned, feeling suddenly sick. Just as he thought. This was all his fault.

Eiri cocked an eyebrow. Was it not just this same man who said that Tatsuha had nothing at all to do with his relationship with Shuichi? Now look who was calling the kettle black.

“Excuse me? Don’t you dare compare me to you! I’m not the one has been having an affair!”

“Oh, Shuichi,” Daisuke whispered with a heavy heart.

“I’m not the one who looked right into my eyes,” Shuichi sobbed, “and lied to me! No, I’m the one who just wasted the last year of his life! I’m the one who’s been mocked and laughed at and made the butt of a very fucked up joke!”

Ryuichi gasped. He stared at his husband in horror. “Shu, no!”

“I gave you everything I was! I trusted you! I loved you and you lied to me! You used me!”

“I’d never-!”

“It’s the same shit, Ryu! Each and every fucking time and I have had it! It’s over! I’m through playing games with you! And I threw my ring away so that makes us even!”

Ryuichi’s heart went cold. “What?” he breathed.

Shuichi held up his ringless hand and wiggled his fingers with a mock expression on his face.

He did! He really did get rid of it! Up to that point, Ryuichi had harbored some hope, a tiny flicker that by some miracle, Shuichi would welcome him warmly. But that ember was gone, blown out by the cold, gusty words of a man who had been pushed too far.

“Shuichi,” he whispered. This was not happening!

“Goodbye, Sakuma.”

Ryuichi watched as Shuichi turned his back to him and his heart gave a painful lurch. If he called out to him now…! Ryuichi raised his hand and opened his mouth.

Eiri stepped back as Shuichi brushed past him and vanished into the suite.

Ryuichi closed his mouth and dropped his hand. His heart hurt. It felt as if it was in a tightening vise. Tears stung his eyes. As much as he wanted to, he just could not make the words come out.

Eiri turned back and met Ryuichi’s watery gaze. He smirked, bringing a devilish expression to his face, and snorted.

Ryuichi gasped and his eyes widened, but before he could say anything, the door closed. The sound of the lock sliding into place echoed down the hall. Suddenly feeling drained, he banged his head against the wall. “Idiot,” he cursed. A lone tear rolled forlornly down his cheek as the pain in his chest grew.

 

* * *

 

Shuichi clung desperately to Eiri’s back, his mind reeling from the gentle play of lips against his.

The kiss had begun as a mere touch, a chaste brush of lips meant to quell the upset singer, but the temperature rose rapidly between the reunited lovers. Eiri’s lips were the sweetest Shuichi had ever tasted, despite the heavy layer of tobacco on them. His kisses were intoxicating. He wanted more. He wanted all Eiri had to give. And Shuichi longed to give himself completely to Eiri, to renew that bond that they created on that long sweet night one year ago.

Eiri’s hands gripped Shuichi’s hips as their lips overlapped sweetly repeatedly. But despite the nearly unbearable longing to feel Eiri course through him, Shuichi reluctantly pulled away from the embrace. He kept his eyes shut for a moment longer as he savored the taste of Eiri still clinging to his tingling lips.

Eiri watched the blissful expression that softened Shuichi’s features. Without thinking, Eiri lifted the hand that was not trapped between Shuichi’s hip and the bed and gently caressed the side of Shuichi’s face. Once again, he wondered at how out of character he had been acting ever since he made up his mind to fly to Toronto and Shuichi. But it was well worth it if it meant having the opportunity to hold Shuichi in his arms like this. Though, if anyone ever pointed out how much of a romantic he really was, he would sooner be sent to prison for murder than admit the truth behind the statement.

Amethyst eyes fluttered open and focused on the hazel eyes golden like the sun. Catching his breath, Shuichi’s heart swelled to the brink of explosion. At first, he tried to swallow back his grin, but it overwhelmed him and it burst forth. Being a contagion, it soon spread to Eiri, infecting him in a matter of seconds.

Eiri fingered a lock of hair off Shuichi’s forehead.

Shuichi’s face grew warm. “Our first kiss,” he whispered, feeling strangely embarrassed all of a sudden. He had to fight with himself to keep from averting his gaze from Eiri. What he saw reflected in his eyes was so raw, he felt as if he had forced himself into Eiri’s private thoughts without his consent. It was so different from when he looked into Ryuichi’s eyes. It was something he was not used to.

Eiri hugged his arms securely around Shuichi’s waist and knocked their foreheads together. He chuckled lightly as the rosy tint on Shuichi’s face brightened. “That’s not what Sakuma believes,” he reminded his lover in amusement. Being able to pull a fast one over on Ryuichi Sakuma had been the second greatest moment of the night. The first was being able to hold Shuichi like this.

“And whose fault is that?” Shuichi mocked, poking Eiri in the forehead.

Eiri frowned. “You have a lot of nerve placing all the blame on me,” he mock scolded with a hard glare.

Shuichi rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“It was your idea to deceive him into telling the truth about him and Tatsuha,” Eiri blamed.

“Yeah,” Shuichi drawled, “but you could’ve said no when I asked.” He poked Eiri in the chest for emphasis.

“And give up the chance to see such a priceless expression on Sakuma’s face?” Eiri snorted. “Not likely.”

“Eiri!” Shuichi giggled, slapping the older man lightly. “You’re so mean!”

Eiri shrugged. “So I’ve been told,” he commented nonchalant.

Shuichi giggled, his face bright red. Dropping his head, he bit back a grin.

Eiri focused his gaze on the boy whose face was as bright as a boiled lobster. Instantly, his face softened. He raised his hands back up and stroked a finger up Shuichi’s cheek.

Fifteen years ago, his parents’ divorce was finalized. Saying it was a bitter and disastrous parting would be an understatement. To this day, his parents could not stand to be in the same room together for more than five minutes before all hell broke loose.

He never really understood what happened between them. One day they were a happy, carefree family and the next, the fairy tale had taken a drastic and an unexpected twist. According to his father, it was because Eiri’s mother had had an affair. Of course, his mother denied that accusation. She called Eiri’s father a habitual liar and an ingrate, among other things that should not have been said in front of impressionable young children according to all psychiatrists. As World War III played out between the two adults, they did not stop to think about how their words were affecting their children. They only cared about, and still do, was proving how psychotically insane the other was. Eiri’s father even went so far as to say that agreeing to that blind date thirty-some odd years ago had been the biggest mistake of his life. How were you supposed to react to or feel when you hear your parents spout off stuff like that on a daily basis?

At first, the Uesugi siblings saw their mother all of the time. All their school vacations had been split in half between their mother and the father, but as the years went by, they saw less and less of their mother until it got to a point where they were lucky to see her once or twice a year for a couple of hours. They so rarely saw her that Eiri even forgot what she looked like at one point. During those rare times when the ex-Mrs. Uesugi would remember that yes, she did have children, it took Eiri some time to remember whom this strange woman was who was standing outside their house. He had always felt uncomfortable with her. It was the same as if someone you do not know and have never met before just walked in right off the street and said they were going to take you to see a movie, or take you out to dinner.

Because of this tormented childhood, Eiri grew up believing that the love written about in romance novels only existed in fairy tales and in the fertile imagination of lonely housewives and mothers. He never wanted to find out if “happily ever after” really did exist because the thought of being in a committed relationship scared him to death. What if he found someone he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, and whom he believed felt the same way about him, only to relive his hellish childhood? He was not sure he could go through that again. He was afraid of being hurt again. He did not want to relive a dark moment from his past he would much rather forget. And that was why he had become so anti-social, why he had thrown himself at so many different men and the occasional woman before he found Shuichi. A momentary fling was something he could control, but falling in love and going through the tumult of a relationship was something beyond his ability to run. It was outside his comfort zone. It was an even more terrifying prospect than anything even Stephen King could come up with. And this made having to express something he could say in five different languages all that much more impossible.

Eiri was not sure when, but then his feelings on the matter began to chance. He was no longer terrified of the prospect of being tied to someone for the rest of his life. In fact, he began to feel nothing at all about the matter and that scared him the most. But just as he was resigning himself to his bleak future, he met Shuichi that one fateful night. Shuichi had somehow been able to slip past all the defenses that had been erected over the years to do the impossible, something that others had tried to do but failed: this boy had forced him to confront the demons haunting him. And challenge them Eiri did.

Thanks to Shuichi, he was now on the road to recovery. He was not completely healed yet. Remission was a long way off. It was possible that he would never be completely free from this restrictive binding but because of this one nineteen-year-old, he was able to take that first step passed the darkest moment of his life and go on with his life, hopefully with Shuichi at his side.

An overwhelming urge strong-armed him so suddenly it blindsided him. A battle of wills played tug-of-war within him as the words he desired to say became lodged prematurely in his throat. His jaw flexed and his lips which had long since gone dry, wormed together as if he were trying to say something, but he remained silent. Swallowing, he ran his tongue over his lips, but still no words were forth coming.

Growing frustrated and beyond annoyed at his impairment, Eiri decided to take a step back. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and held it for several seconds, then he exhaled slowly, keeping his mind emptied. He did this a couple more times and little by little, he felt the tightness in his body lessen.

Finally calmed, Eiri opened his eyes and was surprised to find a set of bejeweled eyes watching him in open curiosity. He narrowed his eyes. “What?” he snapped, feigning annoyance to hide the fact that his pulse had thickened and his mind was melting into a puddle of goo.

Seeing right through the older man’s facade and finding the reaction very entertaining, Shuichi grinned widely with a quick shake of his head. Giggling, he latched onto Eiri. Entwining their legs together and wrapping his arms around Eiri’s back, Shuichi snuggled against him. Burying his head in Eiri’s chest, he closed his eyes and sighed in contentment with a smile on his face.

Eiri blinked, startled. Snorting, he hugged his arms around Shuichi and held him tightly against him. If it was ever repeated, he would deny it, but it felt so good, so right, to hold Shuichi and to be held by him. Dipping his head, he planted a kiss on Shuichi’s head.

Tipping his head back, Shuichi gazed up into those orbs. “I love you Eiri,” he confessed.

A smile spread slowly across Eiri’s face. Tightening his hold on the smaller man, Eiri’s head fell forward and clonked against Shuichi’s. He stared deeply into those dark eyes watching him so openly and so full of trust. It was somewhat unnerving, but truth be told, he would rather have those bejeweled eyes on him then on anyone else.

“I know,” Eiri replied.

“But.”

Eiri sighed forcefully. “Now what?”

“You gotta stop smoking.”

Eiri merely blinked down at the smaller man.

“At least try?”

“I’m not promising anything.”

“Promise, Eiri. Please? To at least try? For me?”

Eiri inwardly groaned. There were those eyes again! “Okay. Okay! I promise.”

A broad grin etched itself across Shuichi’s face.

Chuckling, Eiri gently cupped Shuichi’s chin. He lowered his head and captured Shuichi’s lips. Everything leading up until now had been well worth it. And now that he had Shuichi, there was no way he was ever going to let him go.

 

* * *

 

“I’m sorry,” Daisuke said quietly into the silence.

Startled out of his quiet meditation, Ryuichi blinked as he tried to refocus both his mind and gaze to the here and now. Disconcerted, he looked over his shoulder at Bad Luck’s manager. “Huh?”

“I’m sorry.”

Confused, Ryuichi cocked his head to the side and regarded the other man. “For what?” he asked.

“For everything,” Daisuke admitted. “God! This is all my fault!”

“All what? What are you talking about?” Ryuichi questioned.

“Everything! You and Shuichi and Tatsuha…!” Daisuke knew that if it had not been for his interference, Shuichi and Ryuichi would right now be living that happily ever after fairy tale ending that everybody dreams about, but instead, here they were.

A gentle smile playing with his lips, Ryuichi shook his head in denial. “Our problems have nothing to do with you,” he told Daisuke.

“But they do,” Daisuke argued.

Ryuichi sighed. “Dai-”

Daisuke shook his head vigorously. “You don’t understand! I’m the one that introduced you to Tatsuha!”

“This and that are two separate things,” Ryuichi told the guilt-laden man.

“But Ryu-!” Daisuke protested.

Ryuichi would have none of it. “You may have introduced me to Tatsuha, but you didn’t force me to sleep with him. You didn’t make me fall in love with him and it wasn’t you who told me to lie to Shuichi. All you did was introduce me to a fan.”

Daisuke was not fully convinced. He could not let Ryuichi let him off the hook that easily. “But-”

Ryuichi decided to try a different approach. “If it’s your fault for introducing me to Tatsuha, then it’s Shuichi’s fault for bringing me to that party in the first place. I wasn’t up for a party,” Ryuichi continued when he saw that Daisuke was going to argue. “I wasn’t feeling too good, but Shuichi was so caught up in working on Bad Luck’s debut album that he didn’t have any time for me anymore. So, I figured the party would be a great opportunity for us to spend some time together, but…” Ryuichi sighed. “I didn’t get to see him that whole night. Then I met Tatsuha.” He raised his head and locked eyes with the other man. His heart felt heavy as he admitted it. “Tatsuha did for me what Shuichi--couldn’t.” He knew how that must sound, but it was the truth. He had been lonely with Shuichi in the studio all the time. The apartment had been so empty, but then Tatsuha came into his life and things had not looked so desolate anymore.

Daisuke did not know what to say to that. He plopped down into the armchair opposite Ryuichi, completely drained.

Once again, silence fell around them.

Ryuichi could still see Shuichi standing in the doorway of the bedroom in the suite right across the hall, his face stained with tears, his eyes shot with redness and glaring at him with a mixture of emotions racing across his face.

The last thing Ryuichi had intended was to fall in love with Tatsuha. He had not meant to hurt Shuichi like he had. He could not change what happened no matter how much he wished he could, but it had happened and he now had to live with what he did.

What happened with Tatsuha was something he’d had no control over, but causing Shuichi such pain had been within his ability to control. But like the coward he was, instead of confronting Shuichi and dealing with their growing problems, he had been a complete idiot and ran from them.

Tears prickled Ryuichi’s eyes, veiling his vision. He would never be able to forgive himself for ruining the best thing that ever happened to him. He fell forward, dropping his face in his hands and sobbed quietly.

Daisuke watched the man silently with sorrow and pity gripping his heart. He knew what Ryuichi said. His head was telling him that what Ryuichi said was true, but that did not stop the tight grip of guilt from weighing heavily on his soul and it did not stop him from thinking that if he had not agreed to introduce Tatsuha to his “god” then none of this would be happening now.

“You know,” whispered a voice thick with tears.

Daisuke turned towards Ryuichi whose face was still buried in his hands. His shoulders were still shaking. Daisuke felt his heart twist painfully.

“Whether you had introduced me to Tatsuha or not, I don’t think…” Ryuichi’s voice became small and high pitched as if someone were squeezing his voice box. He cleared his throat before continuing. “It wouldn’t have mattered,” he whispered. It was painful to admit, but nonetheless it was the truth.

“What?” Daisuke cried in incredulity. He slid to the edge of his seat. “Ryu-”

“Shuichi --was never in love with me…not really.” A fresh wave of tears flooded Ryuichi’s eyes. His throat tightened.

Daisuke’s eyes widened at the other man’s admission. “How can you say that? Of course he was! I saw the way he looked at you, the way he watched you…The way he-he spoke about you! He loved you.”

Dropping his hands, Ryuichi lifted his head and gave Daisuke a cheerless watery smile. He shook his head.

“C’mon! Ryuichi-”

Ryuichi remembered what Eiri had accused him off over the phone and realized that as cruel as the other man had been trying to be, he was right. “I caught him on the rebound.”

“So? That doesn’t mean anything-!”

“He was confused and hurting over his break up with Yuki. I knew that, but I didn’t care. I knowingly took advantage of that fact because I liked him so much and when I went to see him backstage after the concert, knew he was attracted to me. I knew that if it weren’t Yuki he saw when he was with me, then he would probably be using me as a way to forget about Yuki. I knew, but I didn’t care because I liked him so much.”

Daisuke did not know what to say to that.

“Meeting me didn’t change the fact that Shuichi was still in love with him. He may have come to care about me, even love me, but…” Ryuichi shook his head. “Our relationship would have ended one way or another anyway.” With a heavy sigh, Ryuichi closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the back of the chair. A lone tear tickled unfazed down his cheek.

 

* * *

 

**Couple of Hours Later**

In the grey hours before dawn when the world was so still it could make you question your sanity, a lone figure sat hunched over a laptop. The clacking of the keys was the only sound that penetrated the heavy curtain of silence that had settled around the city.

With a final jab at the keyboard, he sat up and read the short message typed on the screen. Satisfied, he grabbed the miniature wireless mouse sitting idle besides the computer and clicked on the “send” icon towards the top of the screen. Sitting back, he threaded his hands through his hair and lacing his fingers behind his head, watched the screen as the message was sent out successfully.

A smirk slowly crossed his face. With a sly glint in his eye, he unfolded his hands and scooted forward to the edge of the couch. Grabbing the mouse once again, he cleared the screen in order to send out an all points bulletin.

“Attention,” he whispered as his fingers flew over the keys, “ _Star Magazine_ , _National Enquirer_ and _The Globe_. It seems that the so-called ‘sex-god’ is all about sex and not just with his committed partner.”

Chuckling, he typed the message that come sunrise would be flooding the North American and then the International airwaves. Of course, one must have proof to back up the accusations one was making, mustn’t one? And proof was something he had abundance of.

 

* * *

 

**Private Investigator Offices - Tokyo, Japan -- Same Time**

Naoki Matsushita had to admit, the first few years had been rough, but lately things had begun to finally pick up. Business had been so good in fact; he had actually been forced to turn down several job offers. He also had been able to save up enough to renovate his dingy studio that he used as both his place of business and residence. He was not sure if he had to thank his latest client for that or not, but it was a very big coincidence that when he accepted a job from him, things had begun to pick up.

When scrolling over the long list of e-mails in his inbox, he noticed one from “PinkHairedBaka” for a “job well done”.

Naoki’s eyes lit up. “Speak of the devil,” he exclaimed. He double clicked on the email and the message popped onto the screen. “Uncle Naoki,” he read aloud, “Payment for your services has been wired into your account. Thank you for all your help.” He smiled sadly. He was not sure if he really liked to be thanked for spying on a spouse suspected of being unfaithful. He liked it even less when his client’s suspicions turned out to be based on fact. “I hope everything turns out okay for you Shuichi,” he wished softly as he sat back in his chair.

 

**…To Be Continued…**


	6. Shuichi's Arhat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The songs inserted within this chapter are: “Sorry” by Madonna, “If I Die Tomorrow” by Motely Crue and “Anti-Nastolgic” (English Translation) by Bad Luck.
> 
> And for anyone wondering, “Arhat” is when “a Buddhist who has reached the highest state of peace and enlightenment”. You'll also see “Sei-Teki Ni Hoshi Na” within this chapter & to the best of my knowledge, it is Japanese for “Promiscuous”. If I am wrong, please feel free to let me know.

**Chapter 6: Shuichi’s Arhat**

**Monday 900 AM – NG Productions Executive offices – Tokyo, Japan**

Tatsuha slapped his palms on the desk, his face contorted in growing rage. “You owe me!”

Tohma laced his hands over his stomach and leaned back in his chair. “I don’t remember owing you anything,” he told the young monk calmly.

“Dammit Seguchi!”

“Don’t you think you’ve caused enough damage?” Not expecting a reply, Tohma continued. “I suggest you go back home and forget you ever met Ryuichi Sakuma.”

Having known the man most of his life, Tatsuha knew a threat when he heard it. He had expected him to say as much, but it still pissed him off. “I can’t do that.”

“You can and you will.”

Another threat. “I love him,” Tatsuha protested. t sounded weak even to him, but it was all he had. He loved Ryuichi and wanted to be with him, no matter what it took, even if it meant defying his brother-in-law, the Great Seguchi.

“And look what your ‘love’ did,” Tohma snarled, his eyes hard. He tossed the rolled paper across the desk.

Tatsuha did not even have to look. He knew what his brother-in-law was referring to and it pissed him off. He felt bad enough as it was. His hormones had gotten the better of him . He had screwed up. He knew it and if this mess cost him Ryuichi, he would never be able to forgive himself. But Tohma’s accusations angered him. It was Mr. President’s true nature coming through. “All you care about is protecting your interests,” he accused.

Tatsuha’s stubborn attitude was starting to wear thin. “You’re damn right,” Tohma snapped. “Thanks to you, I have some major damage control to do.”

Tatsuha found that to be a bitter pill to swallow because the reality was, he had caused a lot of trouble for many people. The guilt ate away at him like acid, but it was not going to stop him from getting what he wanted and what he wanted was Ryuichi. “That has nothing-!”

“Still the same immature child. You never take responsibility for your actions.”

Tatsuha clawed his fingers into hard, tight fists. What was that supposed to mean?

“And you just--do--not--think. Did you ever once consider what would happen if your affair with Ryuichi was made public?”

Tatsuha paled.

“Of course not,” Tohma continued, pleased with the reactions his words were having,

Tatsuha began to panic. The last thing he wanted was to cause trouble for anyone. He did not want Ryuichi to hate him. He would not be able to handle it if he did. But why was his brother-in-law so against them being together? Was it because of who Ryuichi was? Because of their age difference? Because Ryuichi was in a committed relationship with Shuichi? Tatsuha had a feeling it had to do with all of the above, but not because Tohma believed he knew what was “best” for everyone. No, this was all about protecting the reputation and image of his precious company. That realization made Tatsuha see red. “The only danger to Ryuichi is-”

“Enough,” Tohma commanded. He had heard more than enough. Gripping the arms of his chair tightly, he pulled himself up. “I think you had better leave Tatsuha,” he warned, “before I have security ‘escort’ you from the premises.”

The two men glared hotly over the desk at one another, neither one willing to fold.

But finally, Tatsuha had had enough. “Fine, but this is far from over,” he promised. Pushing off the desk, he strode to the office door. Throwing it open, he paused. “I wonder,” he said in a soft voice, “if it’s even worth mentioning…”

Tohma rolled his eyes. He returned to his seat and maneuvered the soft leather chair to the desk. Picking up the contract he had been going over before he was so rudely interrupted, he gave the boy a last parting shot. “I think you have said more than enough for one day.”

Tatsuha, watching his famous brother-in-law over his shoulder, snorted. With a shake of his head, he tossed out as nonchalant as he could, “If you say so, Tohma. Then I guess I won’t tell you that there was another person out in that parking lot that night.” Without waiting for a reply that he knew would never come, Tatsuha stepped out into the hall and shut the door behind him.

Tohma, he face revealing nothing, had grown cold when he heard Tatsuha’s admission. Setting the contract back down, he laced his fingers together and brought the clasped hands to his mouth. His brows furrowed in thought.

 

* * *

 

**Monday Night - Toronto Convention Centre, “Sei-Teki Ni Hoshi Na” World Anime Tour - Toronto, Canada**

Ryuichi stealthily made his way up the tunnel hidden in deep shadows to the auditorium. What started as a muffled murmur of voices grew steadily louder.

Last night, Shuichi made it clear they were through, so what exactly was he doing here? He was not sure what he was going to say, but Ryuichi felt that he had to speak to Shuichi one last time.

Standing at the mouth of the tunnel, Ryuichi gazed around at the sea of people that filled the Centre. Even in the dim lighting, Ryuichi could tell that a good many of them came straight from the anime convention as a majority of them had come in cosplay. Among the people filing passed him, several had clearly come as Shuichi, their neon pink hair, which Shuichi had at the time Bad Luck first appeared on the scene, and outrageously clad bodies making it all too evident.

His heart ached every time “Shuichi” went by. He wondered if he would ever be cured of this pain. Ryuichi hoped one day that he and Shuichi could become friends. Was it possible, though, for two people to remain amicable after a past like theirs? And did he really want the answer to that question?

Ryuichi glanced down the aisle over the seats at the stage that was tented by a series of curtains that obscured it from view. The stagehands and road crew for ASK, who were scheduled to go on before Bad Luck, should be right now getting ASK’s equipment offstage and setting up Bad Luck’s, which according to Daisuke would have been left up after their sound check earlier behind another curtain at the back of the stage.

The noise in the crowded Centre escalated. Ryuichi glanced back at the crowd. Was it his imagination or did it appear as if they were beginning to grow restless? A few calls for “Bad Luck” went up followed by cries of exclamation.

Ryuichi checked the time. He was starting to become a little antsy himself and his stomach twirled with sudden nervousness. He wondered if he had enough time to sneak backstage, which would be a nightmare of chaos, and see Shuichi before Bad Luck went on.

His answer came swiftly. The auditorium all of a sudden went dark, catching him off guard. He wondered briefly, what is going on, but then when a roar of ear splitting cheers erupted around him he realized that it must be time for Bad Luck to go on. He beamed with pride. If the sold out crowd wasn’t enough proof, then the excitement thrilling the boisterous mass should have made it as plain as day that this North American tour had been a tremendous success for Bad Luck.

As blue spotlights flooded the stage, a low rumbling filled the Centre, followed almost instantly by Shuichi’s voice.

**Je suis désolé**   
**Lo siento**   
**Ik ben droevig**   
**Sono spiacente**   
**Perdóname**

A phrase, which started off soft, grew louder as it was repeated.

**I’ve heard it all before**

Ryuichi flinched

There was an explosion of light and sound that rattled the entire building as the curtains literally vanished before his eyes to reveal Bad Luck. Then the stage lights snapped on to illuminate a very different looking Shuichi Shindou.

Gone were the long burgundy locks. Instead, spiked jet-black hair tousled with wax could be seen under a black top hat that was tipped to the side over an eye. Nails painted purple gripped the microphone in his right hand that was wrapped in a studded fingerless glove. His free hand held a black lacquered cane that he was using quite nimbly, to say the least. Under a deep purple trench coat that was buttoned down to his navel, Ryuichi could see black knee high boots laced up the front and a pair of shorts that appeared to have been poured on the singer.

Ryuichi was left speechless.

In comparison, Hiro, Suguru, Ethan and Kevin were dressed conservatively in black dress slacks, white button down dress shirts and for Suguru, who had always been a little on the conservative side, a matching vest.

The cheers that had begun to settle down erupted once more. The Centre was vibrating with the heavy dance beats of a song that Ryuichi was not familiar with.

**I don’t wanna hear**   
**I don’t wanna know**   
**Please don’t say you’re sorry**   
**I heard it all before**   
**And I can take care of myself**   
**I don’t wanna hear**   
**I don’t wanna know**   
**Please don’t say “forgive me”**   
**I’ve seen it all before**   
**And I can’t take it anymore**

Shuichi strutted confidently about the stage.

**You’re not half the man you think you are**   
**Save your words because you’ve gone too far**   
**I listened to your lies and all your stories [I listened to your stories]**   
**You’re not half the man you’d like to be**

The blatant anger in Shuichi’s voice washed over Ryuichi, causing his heart to ache painfully and a fresh wave of guilt and remorse to fill him. He could not remember another time where he had screwed up so bad.

**I don’t wanna hear**   
**I don’t wanna know**   
**Please don’t say you’re sorry**   
**I heard it all before**   
**And I can take care of myself**   
**I don’t wanna hear**   
**I don’t wanna know**   
**Please don’t say “forgive me”**   
**I’ve seen it all before**   
**And I can’t take it anymore**

Taking a step out of the shadows, Ryuichi watched hypnotized as Shuichi’s angelic voice, harsh with contempt, captured the attention of not only him, but also the thousands of fans crowding the Centre. Shuichi’s sexy, suggestive moves entranced them. Ryuichi gulped. He had never seen Shuichi like this on stage before.

**Don’t explain yourself ‘cause talk is cheap**   
**There’s more important things than hearing you speak**   
**You stayed because I made it so convenient [I made it so convenient]**   
**Don’t explain yourself, you’ll never see**

The heavy and fast dance beats slowed.

**Gomen nasai**   
**Mujhe maph kardo**   
**Przepraszam**   
**Slicha**   
**Forgive me**

Underneath the various phrases that alternately meant “I’m sorry” and “Forgive me”, were different phrases being repeated, “Sorry” and “I’ve heard it all before” before going back into the chorus.

**I don’t wanna hear**   
**I don’t wanna know**   
**Please don’t say you’re sorry**   
**I heard it all before**   
**And I can take care of myself**   
**I don’t wanna hear**   
**I don’t wanna know**   
**Please don’t say “forgive me”**   
**I’ve seen it all before**   
**And I can’t take it anymore**

Just then, Ryuichi caught Shuichi peer off stage into the wings and smile. Ryuichi followed his gaze and even though he could not see whom it was Shuichi was looking at, he had a very good idea whom it was. There was only one person who could make Shuichi’s face light up like that: Eiri “Yuki” Uesugi. Ryuichi clutched his heart. As the Convention Centre rocked dangerously, a lone tear trickled unnoticed down Ryuichi’s cheek.

As Shuichi’s statement of finality echoed in his head again and the words flowing out of the speakers gripped his heart, Ryuichi caught himself furthering the distance between him and the rising pop prince until he was one with the shadows. Why had he come here? After what he did, what could he possibly say to Shuichi that Shuichi would actually listen to?

 

* * *

 

**Don’t explain yourself ‘cause talk is cheap**   
**There’s more important things than hearing you speak**

**The dance beats that had just moments before been shaking the Centre fell silent as Shuichi’s sang the final lines of the song he’d written in the hours right before dawn that very morning. He wanted Ryuichi to never forget how much he’d hurt him.**

**I don’t wanna hear**   
**I don’t wanna know**   
**Please don’t say “forgive me”**

“I’ve heard it all before,” Shuichi repeated three times before the lights fell and the Centre roared.

As they transitioned into their next song, Shuichi could feel those hazel eyes golden like the sun watching his every move from the sidelines.

 

* * *

 

Out in the cooling night air, Ryuichi halted his climb into the back of the taxi and looked up at the Centre. He could still hear Shuichi’s voice floating passed him as it echoed on the wind.

**It brings out the worst in me**   
**When you’re not around**   
**I miss the sound of your voice**   
**The silence seems so loud**   
**‘Cause there’s no one else**   
**Since I found you**   
**I know its been so hard**   
**You should know**

**If I die tomorrow**   
**As the minutes fade away**   
**I can’t remember**   
**Have I said all I can say?**   
**You’re my everything**   
**You make me feel so alive**   
**If I die tomorrow**

As Hiro’s electric guitar sang into the night, Ryuichi gave a sad little smile, silently said “goodbye” then disappeared into the cab as Shuichi’s voice continued to resonate within the quad.

“Airport,” he told the driver.

 

* * *

 

**Tuesday Morning – NG Productions Executive Offices – Tokyo, Japan**

Hesitantly, Tohma reached a hand out towards the phone, but jerked it back. Just what did he think he was doing? He sighed wearily. Had he not just promised Mika the other day that he was not going to get involved in this nightmarish mess? He had a feeling he was going to regret this later, but despite his misgivings, Tohma picked up the phone and pressed speed dial. It went straight to voicemail. He was not the least bit surprised. “Against my better judgment,” Tohma said over the line, “Ryu will be arriving at Narita this afternoon.” As he hung up the phone and leaned back in his chair, Tohma again wondered what exactly he was doing.

 

* * *

 

**Tuesday Afternoon – Narita International Airport – Tokyo, Japan**

With his carry on bag strapped across his chest, Ryuichi stepped over the threshold exiting the boarding ramp into the airport.

Suddenly a barrage of flashes ambushed him, stopping him dead. Despite the dark sunglasses he sported, the round robin strobe lights blinded him. Questions were hurled at lightning speed in his direction, one after another. Each reporter spewed out nonsense louder than the next, each fighting to be heard and out scoop the others.

“Sakuma-san!”

“Sakuma-san!”

“Look this way please!”

“What do you have to say to your fans?”

“Sakuma-san!”

“Why did you go to Toronto?”

“Did you go to see Shindou-san?”

“Sakuma-san!”

“Are you and Shindou-san over?”

“What did Shindou-san have to say about your underage lover?”

“Sakuma-san!”

“Are you going to continue seeing that boy?”

“What does his family think about your relationship with him?”

“Are you still in love with Shindou-san?”

“Why did you cheat on Shindou-san?”

The questions continued, but Ryuichi ignored them all.

He was jostled and shoved as the other passengers continued pouring off the plane. Some of them gave him looks Ryuichi would rather not decipher, but instead Ryuichi paid them no heed. He searched around and racked his brain frantically as he tried desperately to find some way past the horde of annoying flies buzzing around.

His way out came from an unexpected source.

When his cellphone began vibrating against his thigh from its snug hiding place inside the deep front pocket of his pants, he was grateful for the distraction, however minor it was. The number on the LCD screen stunned Ryuichi. His eyebrows shot up in surprise.

 

* * *

 

Panting heavily, his face flushed and dripping with sweat, Ryuichi burst out of the automatic doors, not entirely sure how he managed to get past the pack of ravenous wolves. Immediately the sweltering summer heat slammed into him. His bag that had been slamming against his hip as he had raced through the crowded airport finally rested quietly at his side.

Ryuichi glanced around as he tried to slow his racing heart. There! He spotted him leaning against his motorcycle with his arms crossed over his chest and his ankles crossed in front of him. “Tatsuha,” Ryuichi whispered. Tears prickled his eyes. He was not sure why he was crying, but he was. Feeling suddenly exhausted and completely drained, Ryuichi gazed at the younger man through a thick veil of tears.

Tatsuha dropped his arms and straightening, slowly lifted his helmet off. He smiled across the expanse separating him from Ryuichi. “Welcome home, Ryu-honey.”

With a sob, Ryuichi launched himself into his forbidden lover’s arms . It was good to be home.

 

* * *

 

**Same Time - Skies above Canada**

“Are you sure?”

Eiri’s voice seeped into Shuichi’s sleep muddled mind. Shuichi pried open lids that felt weighed down and peered at his beloved through gritty eyes. He gave a halfhearted smile. The other half was long gone. It had taken the first flight to La La Land. “Yeah,” Shuichi answered around a yawn. He had been up for over twenty-four hours and he was completely exhausted.

Daisuke had woken him up bright and early the previous morning for rehearsal and then a final run through of that night’s performance at the Toronto Convention Centre. Then it was off to the Toronto Congress Centre where the anime convention had been held for the autograph session. Afterwards it was back to the Convention Centre for the concert. Like their concert the other night in Pittsburg, last night’s performance had run longer than expected and when it finally did end, they had all trooped off to celebrate. The party had lasted late into the night.

When they went back to the hotel, Daisuke had called an unscheduled band meeting. Everybody had groaned, bitched, moaned, and tried to argue, but Daisuke wanted to know what their decision was before he would allow them to head off to bed. Were they going to return to Tokyo and have the next two weeks off or continue onto SugoiCon in Fort Mitchell, Kentucky then St. Catharine's, Ontario for the Garden City Anime Festival, followed by Winnipeg, Canada; Anaheim, California; Oshawa, Canada; Mesa, Arizona; Oxford, Alabama and then Tokyo?

If the events of last night had not happened, Shuichi was almost positive he would have voted to stay on with ASK and rest of those on tour with Bad Luck.

If he were to be honest, if Ryuichi had only kept his mouth shut then there was a good chance that Shuichi would have gone home with him and not Eiri. It was pathetic and unfair to Eiri, but that was honestly how events would have turned out. Despite the fact that he was no longer in love with Ryuichi and had fallen immediately back in love with Eiri, he had been so confused and unsure of what to do.

…But then Ryuichi had opened his big mouth…

_“Because I love him...I’ve always loved him! No matter what happens with Shuichi and me, nothing’ll change between Tatsuha and me!”_

…and Shuichi’s choice was suddenly clear. Not only was he through being dishonored by his husband’s actions, but he was going to go back to Tokyo with Eiri and together they would make up for the year that they’d lost. He knew the guys were a little disappointed about not being able to continue with the tour, but even without knowing the details of what had transpired when they were asleep the night before last, they seemed to understand.

Eiri reached out and clasping Shuichi’s hand, laced their fingers together. His eyes never leaving those hypnotic amethyst jewels, he lifted their joined hands to his lips and pressed a chaste kiss onto Shuichi’s knuckles, which caused Shuichi to blush. Eiri chuckled. When Shuichi yawned, Eiri reached out with his free hand and traced a pattern on Shuichi’s cheek. “Maybe you should get some sleep,” he whispered. “You look tired. I’ll wake you up when we land.”

Shuichi was not about to protest. He rubbed his aching eye with his free hand. Sleep sounded like a very good idea right about now. After their impromptu band meeting this morning, they had breakfast then went back to their rooms to pack before checking out and heading to the airport. Here it was dinnertime Tuesday and this was the first opportunity he had to relax and get some sleep. “Okay,” he mumbled already half asleep. “I love you Eiri,” he yawned as his eyes drooped shut. Within seconds, he was sound asleep.

An uncharacteristic smile graced Eiri’s face. “Baka,” he chuckled.

Eiri pried Shuichi’s hand that seemed to have attached itself to his like a mutated appendage as the boy slept and folded the armrest up between the seats. Then he draped his arm around Shuichi’s shoulders and pulled the comatose man towards him so that Shuichi was resting against him.

“I love you, too,” he whispered, planting a kiss on Shuichi’s head. Tilting his head back against the seat, he hugged Shuichi tightly and closed his eyes.

 

* * *

 

**A Couple Hours Later**

Groggily, Shuichi rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and untangled himself from Eiri’s arms. Stretching the kinks out of his body, he slid to the edge of the seat, glanced over at his blond lover and smiled when he noticed that Eiri was sound asleep.

It should be a crime to be so sexy. Shuichi reached out and tucked a stray strand of honey blond hair behind Eiri’s ear. As much as he would love to just sit here and gaze love struck into Eiri’s face, he really needed to pee.

Standing up, Shuichi cautiously squeezed by Eiri, who was sitting in the aisle seat, and tried very carefully not to disturb him. Eiri had been up just as long as he had. Shuichi scurried down the aisle through the plane to the bathroom located towards the back. He noted that a great deal of the passengers on the flight had also decided to take a nap. Others were watching some movie he could not identify while the rest were either reading, working on laptops or speaking with their neighbors. There were a few people just staring out the window.

He was grateful that once he finally located the bathroom it was unoccupied. Shuichi squeezed himself into the tight space and shut the door behind him, making sure it was locked and flicked the light on. When he turned around, he noticed that whoever was in here before him had left a magazine behind.

Bending over, he picked it up and turned it to the front cover. A slow grin spread across his face. It was _The Sun_ , a notorious tabloid magazine. Splashed on the front page was a picture that Shuichi recognized immediately. It was one of the photos that Uncle Naoki had emailed him. “ **Cheating Rock Star Caught in Passionate Embrace with Underaged Lover** ,” the bold headlines screamed. Shuichi tossed the magazine carelessly to the floor with a sly smirk. He pondered about where the fine folks at The Sun had acquired such a scoop as this.

Chuckling, Shuichi turned to the toilet. Standing over it, he reached inside the front pocket of his jeans and found something small, hard and round. He pulled his hand out. Laying his hand out flat, he stared down at a silver band as he remembered the events from the other night.

_“It’s the same shit, Ryu! Each and every fucking time and I have had it! It’s over! I’m through playing games with you! And I threw my ring away so that makes us even!”_

_Ryuichi’s heart went cold. “What?” he breathed._

_Shuichi held up his ringless hand and wiggled his fingers with a mock expression on his face._

Holding the ring to the light, he read the engraving one last time. “Forever Yours Forever Mine,” it said.

Shuichi barked. “Bullshit.” Unceremoniously, he tipped his hand and watched the ring drop into the toilet. Flushing the toilet, he watched as the band vanished. “Have a nice life Sakuma.”

 

* * *

 

**One Year Later – En Route -- Tokyo, Japan**

“Wha-?”

The sudden burst of sound from besides him startled Shinichiro out of his rambling monologue. “Huh?” Blinking, the assistant lifted his head from the itinerary displayed on his Blackberry and turned towards the male sitting next to him.

“Well. Well.” A sly smirk appeared on the man’s face

“Shindou-san? Are you okay?” Concerned, he questioned his boss.

They were heading home after the filming of Bad Luck’s latest music video for their first single off their sophomore album--that was scheduled to drop this coming fall--wrapped. Though Hiro, Suguru, Ethan and Kevin only had to be present for part of the shoot, unfortunately for Shuichi, as the front man and lead singer for Bad Luck, he was forced to remain for the entire video shoot, which had run so behind schedule that the shoot had lasted through the night. Now, here it was dawn and not only was the sun up, but so were they.

Shuichi turned obsidian eyes hidden behind rimless glasses from the intriguing sight on the sidewalk outside the new club Midnight Love--that closed everyday at dawn--towards his companion. “Huh?” He tucked a stray strand of his shoulder length layered black-brown hair behind his newly pierced ear.

“Are you all right?” Shinichiro repeated. His voice dropped at the end and his face became flushed. Even after working for Shuichi for over a year, he still felt intimidated.

Eyes crinkled in amusement, twinkled. A grin crept slowly across Shuichi’s face. “Ooh, yes,” he assured the man. He swung his gaze back out the window. “Everything is just fine.” He snickered.

It may have been his imagination, but it sounded to Shinichiro a little evil. “Oh!” he exclaimed. “Is that-?” When the light changed and their driver started the car moving forward, Shinichiro’s curiosity got the better of him. He was interested to see what seemed to have caught Shuichi’s interest so completely. And what he spied fading into the background was a man that at first appeared to resemble Eiri strolling casually away from the now closed nightclub, but as Shinichiro continued to study the man he soon grew to realize that it was not Eiri. Besides, Eiri was supposed to be out of town until later that night.

“That would be Tatsuha,” Shuichi informed him with a sneer. Saying his name still left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth.

“Oh my,” Shinichiro said in shock and surprise. As they slowed and rounded a corner, Shinichiro could not help himself as he continued to watch Tatsuha until he vanished behind the buildings. “But…”

“What?” Shuichi turned back to face his personal assistant provided to him by NG Productions. Shinichiro looked concerned and a little upset about something.

Shinichiro looked briefly over his shoulder. “But that wasn’t…”

Shuichi cocked his head. “Wasn’t…?”

“With him…”

“What are you talking about?”

“That wasn’t Ryuichi Sakuma.” Shinichiro turned back to Shuichi, his eyes full of worry.

Aah! That sly grin reappeared. “No,” Shuichi agreed. “No, it sure wasn’t.” He leaned over the front seat as much as his seatbelt would allow and whispered something to their driver that Shinichiro could not hear.

Shinichiro dropped his brows in contemplation. He did not like this. At the next light, much to the surprise of Shinichiro, the car made a left instead of a right. They were heading in the opposite direction from their intended destination. “Wha-?” He glanced behind him out the back windshield, then at Shuichi. “We’re going the wrong way!” he cried out in panic.

Shuichi sat back and reached into his bag sitting on the seat between him and Shinichiro. He pulled out his cellphone. “No. No we are not,” he said with a large grin on his face.

“Huh?”

Shuichi only chuckled.

Shinichiro suddenly had a very bad feeling.

 

* * *

 

**NG Productions -- Tokyo, Japan -- Same Time**

After a long night of recording, Ryuichi was completely exhausted and could not wait to get home. Nittle Grasper was in the middle of working on a new CD that they planned to release sometime next summer. They had almost all of the preliminary musical arrangements finished and were starting to work on how the vocals would be woven into the songs.

They had been told once years ago that the way they produced songs was backwards from the way most other artists produced them. They had found that a little surprising. None of the members of Nittle Grasper had ever thought about how their songs were created. They have always worked this way.

The elevator jerked to a stop. Yawning loudly, Ryuichi ran his fingers through his hair and rubbed his hands over his face. Pushing away from the back wall, he fixed the strap of his bag as the elevator doors slid open with a loud “ding”. As he stepped out of the elevator and into the damp, humid underground parking garage below the NG Productions building, a muffled noise emanated from within his bag.

“Oh.”

Ryuichi dug within his bag as he crossed towards his car and pulled out his cellphone. “New message has arrived,” he read on the front sub LCD display. Flipping open the phone, he was startled to a standstill and gasped. His eyes went wide. His hands shaking, he stared down at the familiar number at the bottom of the LCD screen. A smile lit his face.

“Shuichi,” he whispered. Ryuichi pressed the navigation bar and brought up the message. His smile vanished as he read the message. “’Justin was right. What goes around does indeed come around’.” He blinked. “What?” He blinked again. “What the hell does that mean?”

Confused, he scrolled down. His blood suddenly ran cold. His face paled. His cellphone shook in his trembling hand. Hot tears stung his eyes and distorted his vision. Suddenly nauseous, Ryuichi staggered backwards until his back hit the concrete pylon. He slid down the cylindrical support structure to sit on the cold, dirty floor. His hand that was holding the cellphone flopped down onto the floor besides him. The light from the LCD screen shinned against his pant leg. With blank eyes, he stared lifelessly into a shadow-strewn corner.

Eiri’s voice echoed in his head. _“You’re not even his only lover, you know that right? He usually has about half a dozen at one time and he tells all of them that he loves them. That’s how he’s able to get them into bed.”_

A picture of a woman clad in skimpy, tight club wear and wrapped in the arms of a youngish, tall male with short black hair became a beacon in the dimly lit parking garage.

Ryuichi closed his eyes. A stray tear trickled down his cheek.

 

* * *

 

**Evening -- Shindou-Uesugi Residence -- Koishikikawa Tower Place**

It was a petty thing to do. He knew it.

Shuichi brought the mug up to his mouth and blew on the steaming liquid. Taking a sip of the sweet tea, he stared out over the city. Turning, he leaned his behind against the patio railing and holding his tea against his chest under his chin, smiled down into the amber liquid as he let the aromatic steam wash over him.

A stray giggle passed through his lips before he could stop it.

“Huh?” He raised his head and pushed away from the railing as he heard the front door jiggle. Moments later a familiar voice echoed through the condominium.

“Shuichi? Baka, you here?”

Shuichi’s smile morphed into a grin. Forgetting all about his tea, he burst through the sliding glass doors into the apartment he shared with his lover. “Eiri!”

 

* * *

 

**One year later**

Shuichi was dying. The back of his neck was coated with a thick layer of sweat. His platinum blond hair that was in desperate need of a trim was plastered to his head. His body glistened in a thin layer of sweat. Perspiration dotted his forehead and upper lip. The evidence of his earlier orgasms coated both him and his lover. The place where they were joined ached pleasantly. As Eiri rocked him in an erotic dance that only the two of them knew, in his fervor, he chanted a continual moan of words that was almost enough to bring Eiri to completion right there and then.

“Yu--ki!”

A soft, gentle expression crossed the face of the twenty-five year old as he caressed the side of his younger lover's face. “Shuichi,” he whispered above him. He knew what it did to the singer when he called him by his name when they were together like this. Eiri’s hands were placed on the mattress on either side of Shuichi's head in a sort of push up motion as he thrust inside him again and again.

“Nn…! Aah…! Aah,” Shuichi panted wildly.

Eiri’s rhythm changed. He began to speed up.

“Uh…!” Shuichi clasped his lover’s upper arms, his fingernails creating half-moon circles. His legs were flung over Eiri’s shoulders.

Something was happening, Shuichi could feel it.

“Yu--ki! Yuki! Oh, God, Yuki! I love you!”

“I know--Shuichi,” Eiri breathed against Shuichi's lush, pink lips with all the feeling and emotions he could not express as easily as the boy could.

“Aah…aah!” Shuichi’s grip tightened on Eiri’s arms as his orgasm swept through him, coloring his vision. It bowed Shuichi’s back, arching him off the bed. His head was flung back. Amethyst eyes glazed over in passion as he emitted all of the heat that had been building up inside of him at once.

With a final thrust, Eiri climaxed, spilling his essence deeply inside of his lover. Panting, Eiri captured Shuichi's lips and kissed his chastely before collapsing onto the bed besides him. He wrapped his arms around Shuichi's waist and pulled him against him, spooning him from behind. He placed a kiss on the side of his lover's head.

Shuichi sighed and snuggled back against him.

“We should get cleaned up and change the sheets,” Eiri said, feeling his heavy eyelids drooping. The last thing they needed was to wake up tomorrow in a sticky mess. That has happened before and it was not pretty.

“Hmm,” Shuichi answered. He felt too content to move. “Eiri,” he called out softly after several minutes.

“Hn.”

“Are you sure you can't come on tour with us?”

By the sound of his voice, Eiri knew Shuichi was pouting. It was a good thing he could not see his face, otherwise he would find himself giving in, but he steeled himself. “You know I can't,” he reminded Shuichi carefully.

“But why?” he whined.

Eiri growled and flipped onto his back, suddenly annoyed. “Because I can't,” he snapped. “Get over it!”

“But, Eiri!” Shuichi sat up, staring at his boyfriend with watery eyes. “You always go on tour with us!”

Eiri flung aside the sheet in irritation and stormed out of the bedroom and across the hall to the bathroom, as bare as the day he came into this world, slamming and locking the door behind him. He heard Shuichi cry out for him, then burst into unhappy tears. Leaning against the door, Eiri stared at the ceiling sadly. He hated it when Shuichi cried, especially when he was the cause of his unhappiness. “I'm sorry, Shuichi,” he whispered mournfully.

 

* * *

 

When Shuichi woke up the next morning, Eiri was already gone. He was not even sure if he had come back to bed last night. He had cried long into the night without bothering to shower or change the sheets. Now he felt sticky, gross and not to mention itchy. He was all stuffy and his eyes were nearly swollen shut from all the crying.

Daisuke was going to kill him and the media was going to have a field day. He was just glad that their old manager, K, had decided to taken an extended leave of absence in order to take care of his wife, otherwise, K would have had his head on a platter. Compared to Mrs. Winchester, his problems were dust in the wind.

Unfortunately, there was nothing that could be done for Judy. The cancer had spread unfortunately to her brain. Last time Shuichi had spoken with the Winchesters, which had been a couple weeks ago, K told him that he and his wife had decided that she would spend what time she had left at home with him and their family. Shuichi felt sorry for their son Michael. He was only a child.

Bad Luck was first going on a long three-month tour of Japan in support of their latest CD. After that, they were heading back to America and Canada to do a round of concerts. It was a schedule the members of Bad Luck were all too familiar with. It was almost nearly identical as the “Sei-Teki Ni Hoshi Na” World Anime Tour that Bad Luck took part in a couple of years ago along with ASK, among others.

Shuichi and Eiri's anniversary happened to fall during the tour and Shuichi had been hoping that his lover would come with them so that they could celebrate it together, but when he brought it up, Eiri said he could not go. He claimed that he had “a prior commitment”. Nothing Shuichi said or did could change Eiri’s mind. Shuichi had been taught that “hate” was not to be used lightly, but it was the only phrase that came close to what Shuichi felt when he was not with his blond haired god. He hated it when Eiri was not with him, but this time it was made worse by the very fact that they would not be celebrating their anniversary together and Shuichi was not even sure why.

Miserable, Shuichi rolled out of bed. He felt like shit. He walked around the apartment like a mindless drone, going through the usual morning routine automatically. He showered and tossed on the clothes Eiri had laid out the night before for him. He knew he should eat something, but the thought of food right now made him nauseous. He dragged his suitcase to the foyer, where he slipped on his shoes and tossed on a lightweight jacket. It was that time of year where there was still a chill in the morning air, but the afternoons were dreadfully humid. Grabbing his hat and sunglasses, he put them on and with one final look around, walked out of the apartment, dragging his luggage behind him.

 

* * *

 

**Zepp Tokyo -- Tokyo, Japan -- Couple Hours Later**

Strains of “Bird” echoed around the empty music hall, drowning out the sounds of Daisuke and the technical crew’s unintelligible speech. Hiro made his guitar sing as no other could as he and most of Bad Luck went through one of many sound checks. Shuichi was out in the parking lot with a few of the roadies, probably goofing off as usual, until he was needed.

He was worried about him. Shuichi was putting on a brave front, acting as if nothing was wrong, but he had been friends with him long enough to know when something was bothering him and something was definitely wrong. It did not take a genius to realize what that something was either.

Eiri Yuki.

Their tour kicked off that night with a concert at Zepp Tokyo. Ironically enough, it was where it all started. Then immediately after, they headed for Kyoto. A three-month long tour always took its toll on Shuichi. He was always a miserable, fatigued mess by the end of the second month, but with Eiri by his side, Shuichi was able to make it through to the end just fine. But without the man, he was a miserable mess and the tour had not even begun yet. Hiro sighed. This was going to be a long three months.

 

* * *

 

**That Night**

The last strains of “Jounetsu Ballad” exploded in a deafening boom. A shower of sparks reigned down from the stage. The fans that filled Zepp Tokyo burst into thunderous applause. It roared through the building and engulfed Shuichi, who absorbed it all.

Feeling elated and slightly exhausted, Shuichi ran off stage into the great black void of the backstage area with the others right behind him. All three were greeted with applause and whistles from the crew standing backstage.

“Congratulations,” came the calls all around them.

Immediately, sounds of “Bad Luck” being chanted by those crowding into the music hall could be heard. An encore would be needed, but that had been expected.

Someone handed Shuichi a towel and a water bottle. He toweled himself off and downed half the bottle of water while someone else, most likely one his bodyguards, lit the way to the dressing rooms where Shuichi changed out of his skimpy white leather outfit and into his street clothes, mainly jeans and a t-shirt and tied his hair back.

When he was escorted back to the stage, one of the roadies handed him an acoustic guitar. Strapping the guitar on, Shuichi took a deep breath before walking out onto the stage to a deafening explosion of sound. He grinned out at the audience.

Hiro had been teaching him how to play the guitar for the past few months. It had been another reason why he had wanted Eiri to come with them on this tour. He had been hoping to serenade his lover for their anniversary, but since that was not going to happen, he figured he might as well put his new skills to use somewhere else.

“Hello, Tokyo,” he shouted into the microphone.

The crowd roared back.

He fingered the taunt strings and the fans roared their approval as they were serenaded with an unplugged version of “Anti-Nostalgic”.

**The transparency tints the night sky**   
**I walk alone, along the usual route home**   
**I hum these feelings**   
**And I want to deliver them to you as I sleep**   
**I’m afraid of something**   
**And it makes me like myself a little less**   
**The feelings I want to convey**   
**The days I left behind**   
**I’ve forgotten them somewhere**   
**My heart aches just a little bit**   
**That which connects time**   
**On a starry night, I’m searching for you**   
**The tears are overflowing**   
**I long just a little for a smile**   
**That which connects time**   
**On a starry night, I’m searching for you**

As the last note faded, there was a sudden explosion of sound. Opening eyes he had not realized he had closed, Shuichi grinned a wide toothy smile out at the audience. He lifted his strap over his head and handed it to a roadie who ran out on stage to grab it. Stepping back, Shuichi bowed with a beaming smile. If he could just concentrate on this, then he would be all right without…

Shuichi gasped audibly as he turned around and saw standing center stage behind him, the one person he had not expected to see. “Y-Yuki,” he breathed in shock.

Eiri tried to block out the roaring crowd and the hot stage lights and concentrate on nothing but his sexy, sweaty lover. He stepped forward and dropped to one knee.

Shuichi and the audience gasped as one. His hands flew to his mouth and his mind went blank.

“Shuichi Shindou,” Eiri began, his voice booming out throughout the music hall.

A quiet hush fell over the music hall.

Eiri produced a black velvet box from his coat pocket. He flipped the lid. The stage lights shinned down on a wide gold band, making it gleam beautifully.

Shuichi gasped. Tears blurred his vision. He glanced from the ring to Eiri. The audience whistled and individual applause sounded.

“Shuichi, will you marry me?”

The audience burst into a wave of deafening sound.

With tears streaming down his face, Shuichi flung himself at his lover. “Yes,” he shouted over the noise. “Yes! Of course I will,” he sobbed hysterically.

If possible, the noise level increased when Eiri pulled back from Shuichi enough to slip the ring on his slender ring finger, the one finger it was said that held a vein that traveled all the way to the heart. He was not sure if it was the truth or not, but he liked the way it sounded.

Shuichi held his hand out in front of him and gazed at the gleaming band. He gazed through his tears at his lov--no, his fiancé.

Eiri reached out and cupped the side of his face. “I love you, Baby.”

Shuichi's face split into a huge grin. He threw himself at Eiri, hugging him tightly. “I love you, too.”

“I told you I had a ‘prior commitment’,” Eiri shouted into his ear.

Shuichi pulled back, chuckling. “I forgive you,” he shouted back. Despite their very public audience, Shuichi kissed his husband-to-be long, hard and passionately.

 

**…The End**


End file.
